Carnivore
by Sita 900
Summary: I've made up my mind, You're going to be mine. Basch x Ashe x Balthier Character Deaths
1. The Savior

**Author's Note: **

Hello! Thanks for taking interest in my story. This is after the end of XII, and doesn't take into consideration any sequels.

As much as I crave the AshexBalthier pairing, I adore BaschxAshe as well... So, why not make a love triangle between the three? The final pairing at the end of this will be... well, you'll just have to wait and see, won't you? XD

This story is currently **rated T**, but will most likely be shifted over to **rated M** in the future. Be warned. There will be sexual situations, violence, and character deaths.

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**C A R N I V O R E**

**Chapter One: **_The Savior_

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_It'll take time, but in a while  
You're gonna be mine and I know it, _

_We'll do it in style_

-Sunshine Superman

* * *

Ashe's lower lip began to tingle. Instinctively, she released it from underneath her teeth. She tasted blood, and a slow smile formed over her mouth.

_I bit my lip so hard I bled, _she thought wildly. _That is what he does to me. Soon. Be patient. He will be here soon._

The idea of seeing him again drove her mad. She had known him for as long as she could remember. He had watched over her, taught her, talked to her. He had been her schoolgirl crush. She used to have innocent, childish dreams about him.

And then he murdered her father. Or, so she had thought.

When they had met again, she hated him something fierce. Her foolish crush on him never returned.

But if that was true, why was her heart pounding so urgently inside her chest?

In her hand she held a short, simple letter that had arrived for her that afternoon. The contents read: _Your Majesty. We will come for you soon. Be warned! -**Balthier and Fran**_

She smiled as she reread the letter. A visit from the sky pirates thrilled her equally as much as seeing the Judge.

She stood from her plush bed and moved across the room to her vanity table. Placing her palms firmly against the desk, she leaned forward and stared at herself hard in the mirror. Her reflection gazed back at her, and she felt shivers slide down her spine. Her blonde hair hung loosely on her shoulders; her pale skin smooth and flawless. She flashed a smile at herself, confident in her stern beauty and personality. Still, she was nervous. She hadn't seen him in, oh, how long had it been again?

Two years.

Two long, blissful years.

She had grown more carefree in that amount of time, in both her looks and attitude. Her usual shoulder length hair now cascaded in light waves down to her breasts. Her thin frame had filled out slightly, but the tiny bit of extra weight only accentuated her hour-glass figure. Her face, once worn with despair, was now filled with life and pleasure.

She was happy.

She had been Queen for nearly a year and a half, and was now twenty-one years of age, and thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it. After all, she had worked tremendously hard to make it where she was, and thought it foolish to not embrace her position. The parties, the people, the power. It was all so invigorating.

Yet life as Queen was not all fun and games. She continued to work hard. She had completely restored Dalmasca, managed to lower taxes, and still had enough wealth to give her people what they wanted. Her life was busy, but that was the way she wanted it.

After all, she was never good at just sitting and doing nothing.

Her blue eyes traveled from her face down to her neck. Her wedding ring to Rasler hung around a silver chain. When Balthier had sent it back to her last year, she had fashioned it to a necklace. She swore she would never take it off again- that it would grace her neck forever. To remind of her of how she had felt- the pain, the loss- so she would remember the sacrifices people had made.

A light knock sounded on her closed bedroom door. She knew what it meant. She pulled back away from the mirror, fingering the ring carefully between her fingers.

_He is here, finally, _she thought, feeling dizzy from anticipation. _After two years, we can see each other at last._

Turning, she moved swiftly towards to door.

Two years, and she would finally get to see Basch Fon Ronsenberg again.

* * *

He found the garden that rested behind Rabanastre's grand castle to be quite beautiful; more beautiful than he had ever remembered. His eyes were greeted by many varieties of flowers, most of which he didn't know the name of, after all he had never been good at learning more trivial information. He wondered if the Queen had the garden redone after her coronation, but then quickly decided that his amazement was due to the fact that he had been absent for two years.

Placing his hands behind his armored back, he watched the flowers sway gently in the warm breeze. It was sweltering out- one of the warmest days of the season- and his Judge outfit and helmet only amplified the sultry temperature. He could feel the beads of sweat beginning to form on his skin, and casually wondered how much longer he would have to wait for her. Patience, however, was one of his strongest suits, and therefore he didn't mind waiting. Besides, it gave him time to collect his thoughts.

He was nervous to see her again.

The last time they had been parted for two years, she had cursed his name. She had hit him and hated him.

"_After what you've done! How dare you! You're supposed to be dead!"_

He twitched involuntarily at the memory. It had been so ironic- the two of them were said to be dead, yet when they found each other alive, he had been ecstatic and she had been outraged. Still, she had looked past his murderous rumors and learned to trust him again. She had forgiven him for failing her and allowing her husband and father to die. And that gave Basch more pleasure than he knew possible.

The sound light footsteps filled his ears. He turned quickly, already knowing who it was that approached him. The hastily setting sun lit up her entire body. Her eyes lit up like bright diamonds when she saw him.

She wore a two piece, silver dress. The top was made of sturdy silver dyed leather, which clung tightly to her, and gave way to soft fabric which enclosed her breasts. The top was short, showing off a large section of her midriff. Low on her hips rested a flowing, silk skirt, which hung to the ground in which she walked. He had seen that dress depicted on her in many paintings over the past two years.

Her hair, much to his surprise, had frown noticeably longer in length and lighter in color. It flew behind her as she moved towards him. _What has she been doing these past years to allow her hair to lighten so much,_ he wondered. _Spend much time outdoors, I assume._

She came to a rest a dozen steps away from him, using her hand to shield her eyes from the harsh sun.

"Your Majesty," he said, his voice muffled from under his helmet. He swiftly lowered himself to one knee, bowing before her.

"Basch, please rise," she commanded, her voice soft and kind. She motioned with her free hand for him to stand. "We are too old of friends for such formalities."

He stood with hesitation. 'Such formalities' were all he had ever known. Through the eye holes in his helmet, he cast a respectable glance at her.

She looked as if she had aged considerably in the past two years, but in a very good way. She seemed much more womanly, and her beauty seemed to have increased tenfold. Any sorrow that had filled her face during their last journey to restore her throne had all but vanished. She looked happy, complete, and without a care in the world. She certainly now passed for a Queen quite well. Yet while he admired her newfound beauty, he did it in a virtuous way- he simply viewed her as a sister; a daughter, even.

"Please," she begged, taking a half step towards him. "Remove your helmet. I have not seen you in two years, and I wish to view your face."

Raising both hands to the sides of his head, he did as she commanded. He lowered his helmet to his side, instantly enjoying the cooler air that now surrounded his face. He turned his bright blue eyes towards her in order to witness her reaction, for he had not changed as much as she.

Her eyes seemed to scan every crevice on his strong face: his strong jaw line, his low eyebrows, the blonde hair on his chin, his scar which seemed to flow perfectly over his forehead and across his left eye. He shifted his weight uncomfortably under her stare; the look on her face gave him mixed signals. Pure wonder crossed her features, yet she looked almost sad as well.

He took a few steps towards her, unsure what to do with himself. Out came his gruff, masculine voice, "Your Majesty."

"Why have you not come to see me these past few years," she questioned, narrowing her eyes.

He nodded back to her. "Forgive me, your Majesty. The Emperor has kept me busy."

"So I see," she told him, the slightest hint of tease in her throaty voice. "Much to my displeasure, you both missed my coronation, without ever giving me a reason why."

He tilted his head slightly. "Duty, I am afraid. As to the mention of your coronation, Penelo wrote to the Emperor and explained that Fran nor Balthier attended either."

She lowered her eyes. The subject obviously pained her. "Sadly, only her and Vaan managed to be present."

"Have you seen the other two since?"

She hesitated. "I'm afraid not. Not to worry, Balthier and Fran sent me a letter today. They are coming to visit me soon."

"I see," he said with a slight smile.

"Shall we go inside? You must have brought some kind of news, after all, why else would you have come?"

_I've almost forgotten._

The small smile quickly vanished from his rugged face. "I do have to talk to you about something."

"And?"

He glanced up towards the colorful sunset, squinting into the last remnants of daylight. "Let's go inside, it's best we sit during this."

She obviously didn't like the sound of that. All forms of pleasure disintegrated from her pretty face.

Motioning him to follow her, she led him down the path from the garden towards her grand, strikingly large castle. Quickly, they ascended the steep stairs and moved inside. Ashe escorted him into the parlor just inside the entrance way to the castle. They sat in the small room, taking plush red seats at opposite sides of the room. She folded her hands over her crossed legs, becoming the perfect picture of what a Queen should look like, and waited for him to speak.

He cleared his throat. "The news I bring is of the Emperor."

"Larsa?" she questioned, narrowing her eyes in confusion.

He nodded, carefully watching her puzzled expression as he spoke. "I fear he failed to wake this morning. The Healers have believe he has been poisoned. No remedies seem to be working."

Ashe looked appalled by his words and the dire scenario. She raised a hand to cover her fallen mouth, and shook her head sadly. "So I see. What shall I do?"

"If his Lordship dies," Basch told her sternly, his face a mask of stone. "Archadia will be thrown into a civil war. The country needs you- the Queen that the world is calling 'Ivalice's Savior'- to help keep peace in case the worst should occur."

She smirked at Basch, who offered a slight smile in return. "Savior? I have not heard such terms used in referring to me."

"You have given the people prosperity and peace," he explained. Then, with a nod, "You shall accompany me to Archadia?"

"Of course," she dropped her hands back down to her lap. "Nothing should make me happier than to aid my sister kingdom."

* * *

**Author's Note: **

Too many stories make Ashe despise being Queen. I decided to change that, and I hope you liked it. :) Also, Ashe is 21 years old, powerful and important... and she knows it (as she did in the game!)... In this story, **she won't be as innocent as people believe she is**! Be warned, she'll be embracing herself. In more ways than one. 0:)

I'd appreciate any reviews!

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	2. The Meaning of Lonely

**Author's Note:** Ahh, when I said Ashe had gained weight, I didn't mean _fat_. I just meant gained weight in say, her breasts, hips, and butt. She's Queen now! And eating much more delicious and fattening foods than she did when she was in hiding. XD

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**C A R N I V O R E**

**Chapter Two: **_The Meaning of Lonely_

* * *

_The heavens all shook violently  
He caught my eyes_

-**Enter from the East**

* * *

The following morning found Ashe inside the Emperor's bedroom. 

Larsa Ferrinas Solidor was pale as he laid unconscious in his bed. The lights in his bedroom were dim, and Ashe wasn't sure as to why. She thought that if they were trying to revive him, they'd certainly make the lights brighter than they currently were.

She reached out and touched the exposed skin on his left arm with her fingertips. It felt cold and clammy, and she instantly recoiled her hand. With a low sigh, she turned her eyes from the child Emperor and towards the three Healers that were present in the room. They each shifted nervously as they felt Ashe's angry glance upon them.

"You are the personal Healers of his Highness," she said, scorn low in her voice. "You have failed not only him, but _all _of Archadia."

"Madam," spoke the youngest of the three in his thick accent, clasping his weathered hands tightly before him. "We are doing what we can."

_What they can! What mockery is this? I pray my own Healers are more capable than Larsa's men._

"Then why are you standing there doing _nothing_," Ashe demanded, placing her hands against her hips. She eyed each of them in turn. "Only one needs to watch over him. The rest should be working on a cure. Do you understand me?"

The tone in her voice must have frightened them, for they pushed themselves about for a moment before two of them exited the room. The one who stayed was the one who dared dispute her. He wiped sweat from his furrowed brow and began to make a routine check on Larsa.

Satisfied, Ashe turned around and faced Basch, who stood sternly by the sole window in the room. "Judge Gabranth," she called, motioning him with her hand to approach her. He moved toward her, his armor clinking as he walked. She looked up at him, trying to see his eyes beneath his intricate helmet. She shouldn't, and it bothered her.

"Have you announced to the people his Majesty's ailment," she questioned, keeping her voice as regal and formal as possible.

"The information has been contained thus far," he responded, his voice muffled.

"Good," she nodded. "It would be best to do so until he recovers. Should he _not _recover, do not announce his death immediately either. It would only encourage civil war."

"I understand," he noted.

"Good," she repeated. She shifted on her feet, darting her eyes quickly to the nearby Healer and back to Basch again. "I will take my leave. I need to get some fresh air and clear my thoughts." Slyly, she added, "Will you escort me as I do so?"

"Very well," he complied, his stance relaxing slightly.

He led her out of the bedroom and grand castle, and into one of the many gardens. The landscaping seemed to be immensely more marvelous than Dalmasca's, and Ashe found herself momentarily envious. Only when they were at least a half mile away from the castle, and now completely surrounded by flowers and fountains, did Ashe slow their walking pace and begin to talk. She first insisted Basch remove his helmet, and he did as she asked, choosing now to carry it at his side.

"I'm having the strangest sense of déjà vu," she told him, pretending to think really hard, keeping her hands locked behind her back. "I believe yesterday we were in a garden and I commanded you to remove that silly helmet."

He nodded, "Ah, yes, I believe so." Then quickly he changed the subject, "Your Highness, what are we to do about the Emperor?"

She slowed her stride even further. "Yes, that. Fire those terrible Healers as soon as possible, borrow mine if you must. Larsa will be just fine. I've seen this kind of poisoning before; my eldest brother had this happen to him twice. He just needs to sleep off the illness, and he'll be on his feet in three days."

Basch looked overly relieved. "You are sure?"

She smiled thickly. "Very sure." She stopped walking and placed a hand on his arm to halt him as well. Her hand looked so very small on him. "Do you not trust me?"

"More than anyone else," Basch told her seriously, catching her eyes and holding them with his own.

_You have such beautiful eyes, _she mentally told him. _Did you ever realize that?_

Releasing his arm, Ashe turned her eyes back to the golden dirt path before them. A fountain of an arch angel was in the middle of their trail, with benches on either side. Ashe quickly strided over to one of the two benches and plopped down onto it, smoothing out her long skirt. Basch followed her over but did not sit.

She smiled softly up at him. "It's funny how much you can miss someone when you don't see them for so long."

"I spent nearly two years in my hanging cage," he informed her. "I learned long ago what the meaning of lonely meant."

She lowered her gaze. _Of course, what a brainless thing for me to say. _"My apologies. I only meant that I missed you terribly."

"I understood what you meant," he explained in his masculine voice, and Ashe found herself feeling lost in its thickness. His gruff voice had always driven Ashe wild, even as a child. "Penelo, about a year ago, wrote to Larsa and inquired when I was to visit you. She said you seemed lonely."

"Lonely? No," she shook her head, leaning forward slightly. "Missed you? Yes."

A moment of silence surrounded them. Both stared at the ground.

_Say something. Do something. Let him know you do value his friendship. Make him talk. Oh, if only just to hear his voice again..._

"Basch," she began, looking up as he did the same. "You were one of my guards when I was younger. You were always there during the important times in my life. You know everything about me, yet I find I know nothing of your personal life. I understand that I am in the public eye and all know me, but I wish to _know you_." She leaned forward farther, eyeing his face. "Tell me, have you ever been married?"

He hesitated. "Your Highness, I do not believe this is an appropriate topic for us to discuss."

"Please humor me," she asked, sitting straight up.

Again, he paused. "The Princess I knew two years ago did not care about such trivial topics."

_Of all the--! _"What of the girl you knew four years ago?"

"She never cared either to 'get to know me'. She was more concerned with 'getting to know' her new husband."

_Could he possibly be more difficult and unwilling? _"I have changed, you know. I have grown up in these past two years. I would just like to have a simple conversation with you, as nothing more but friends. And for Gods sake, please refrain from referring to me as 'Highness' or 'Majesty'. You are no longer my guard and no longer in my kingdom. I have a name, and I wish you to call me by it."

"Very well," Basch reluctantly agreed. He moved to sit down beside her, and she shifted over to give him enough room. He stared ahead towards the fountain. "Her name was Isil."

"Your wife?" _Finally, he speaks._

"Aye," he placed his elbows onto his knees and continued to stare ahead. "Wonderful woman. I loved her very much. ...She and the children perished during the war."

She looked at him, her azure eyes widening. "Are you saying you had children?"

He looked pained. "Three girls. The youngest was two; the eldest five."

Her heart twitched horribly inside her chest, and she longed to comfort him. _I have lost a lover, all my family, and many friends. But I cannot imagine what it is like to lose your children_. "Basch, I am so sorry. How did I not know of your loss?"

He finally looked at her. His handsome face was etched with pain. "They passed away after I had been charged with murder. I learned of their deaths while inside my prison., where I could not mourn for them properly."

Instinctively, she reached out and placed her right hand onto his, and reflected his pain with her expression. "How horrid. Basch, if there is anything I can do..."

His left eye twitched, and he looked again to the fountain. "I learned to deal with my loss in a different way than most."

She understood what he meant all too well. "As did I. We are the same, you and I, in our losses we have shared."

Again, he turned his eyes on her. "Many are the same as us."

_He doesn't understand my wish to comfort him._

"Again, I must apologize," Ashe began, slipping her hand away from the tops of his and frowning. "I did not mean to bring up a painful past. I only wanted to learn more about you."

A slight, bitter smile played onto his lips. "Despair brings people together, I'm afraid."

But Ashe disagreed. During her times of depression, she had hardened herself and refused to become close to any others around her. She doubted Basch, had he had the opportunity, would have shared his terrible feelings with others. Even now, he looked uncomfortable to have shared his intimate tale of woe with her.

_If only I can help him. I was once as sad as he, but I overcame it finally, and now I can be myself again._

At that moment as her heart broke for him, Ashe vowed to help him overcome his grief. She vowed to bring him out from his shell and make him whole again. _In Any. Means. Necessary. _

* * *

**Author's Note**: Ahaha, in the next chapter Ashe'll be confronted by a certain, dashing sky pirate! XD

I know, I know, Ashe seems all supportive and loving... But one of my reviewers was correct in pointing out the significance of the story title. ;)

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	3. Playing Pretend

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C A R N I V O R E

**Chapter Three: **_Playing Pretend_

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_Aghast and tender, indulged in sin  
Embraced by loneliness, legions who grin_  
-**The Insight and the Catharsis**

* * *

The evening following Ashe's secret promise to herself found her out in the upper-class end of Archadia's grand city. The nobles that walked about failed to recognize her, but due to her expensive outfit, accepted her as one of their own. She was, after all, traveling about with an Archadian Judge, and therefore had to be wealthy. 

Basch, at first, had refused to accept Ashe's proposal that he take her out to explore Archadia and feed her dinner. But when she threatened to go out by herself- and alas, most likely be raped and murdered!- he agreed to escort her.

_Loyal to the core_, she thought pleasantly. _He must have been a wonderfully faithful husband to poor Isil. If only I could be so lucky to find such a husband._

The city lights and sights were incredible. Small airships flew speedily through the cool night sky. The people were out, of course, attending parties and events and dinners. As Ashe looked at the incredibly loud sight before her, she felt tiny. It was the first time in her life she had felt small and insignificant. She almost felt dizzy, not used to such happy commotion, and ended up clutching tightly onto Basch's arm as they went on their way.

He took her to a small yet prestigious outdoor café that overlooked much of the city. There, they dined heartily, while he drank water and she wine. They chatted mostly on what Ashe found to be mind-numbing topics such as politics. _I discuss such issues every hour of the day in Dalmasca, _she thought lifelessly. _For now, I wish only to converse about petty topics. _

The entire time, Ashe pretended they were on a real date, and that he was trying to woo her. She knew it couldn't be further from the truth, but she liked to pretend.

After a moment, she had realized her fantasy had disallowed her to hear the last thing he had said to her. He must have asked her a question, for he stared at her as if he waited a reply.

She smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, could you repeat the last thing you said? I'm afraid I lost my train of thought."

He studied her hard, his eyes seeming to quiz her. "You must be tried. Come, I'll lead you back to your bedchamber."

_So soon? Do you not enjoy spending time with me? _"No," Ashe breathed, toying with the remaining scraps of the food on her plate. "It is still early. I never get to _just _relax like I am doing now. Besides, I have made a promise to myself, and I'll have broken it should we part ways now."

He raised his deliciously scarred eyebrow. "A promise?"

She smiled mischievously at him. "Yes, I've decided that you have had no fun in your entire life. I shall accompany you until you rid yourself of this terribly depressing guilt that you carry." She paused, watching him look down at his plate. "Oh, be happy Basch. All is right in Ivalice! We have to make the best of what we have. I have learned to get over my pain and suffering, and I believe it is time you do so as well."

"I am over my grief," he explained sharply, his eyes moving up to look at her. "I am just worried about his Highness."

"Then why are you carrying such a chip on your shoulder," she questioned, setting her fork aside. She picked up her goblet of wine and moved it towards her crimson lips. "I _will_ teach you to enjoy yourself."

As she took a deep sip from her wine, she glanced at him over the bridge of the cup. He looked like he didn't know what to say, and instead turned his gaze onto the crowd. Ashe continued to suck down the bittersweet beverage, determined to ease her nervousness.

_I don't believe a man has made me nervous in my entire life, _she thought with amazement. _Yet somehow he makes me feel such emotions. If only I could break into that head of his, and see the wheels turning, and know exactly what is on his mind._

_I wonder if it is me. If I am in his thoughts, however provocative or innocent they may be. _

Without warning, Basch stood from his wooden chair and moved off into the crowed. Confused, Ashe quickly set her finished drink aside and peered out, struggling to find him in the mess of people. Unable to see him, she too stood, and made her way out.

One thing she did notice about Archadian's residents was that they were exceedingly rude when compared to the Dalmascan people she was used to seeing. She offered out several 'Excuse me' 's and the like, but nobody responded and pushed their way by her. _You are in different territory, Ashelia. Do as they do, and push yourself through._

And so she did so, shoving her body past the vast crowd until she came to a clearing by one of the city overlooks. There, on the outskirts of the traveling crowd, she stopped in her tracks. _Is that--!_

Basch stood, his hand on the railing, talking quietly with none other than Balthier Bunansa.

_That bastard, I'm going to kill him!_

* * *

As Basch spoke to him, Balthier couldn't help but wonder how the older man looked so young. _He is nearly thirty-eight, and he doesn't look a day past thirty. Whatever he is doing, I'll have to do it._

Basch had told him that he was in town with Ashe, for she was visiting the sick Larsa. Balthier had smiled devilishly when he heard the fact. He and Fran had been planning on visiting her soon, but now he wouldn't have to travel to Rabanastre if she was indeed here.

"You!"

Both of the men turned at the sound of Ashe's shocked voice. She stood there, with people pushing past her, but she didn't even notice. Balthier did a double take. _My,_ he thought. _Has Ashe changed._

She placed her hands on her waist, and her eyes were fixated on him. Her face had thinned out slightly, and her blonde hair was so much longer and brighter that he hardly recognized her. As she began to walk towards them, he couldn't help but notice how arousingly low her silky silver skirt hung on her hips. Realizing his mouth had fallen open when he saw her, he hurriedly closed it. He ground his teeth together as his eyes traveled up her body to gaze at her chest, which had increased in volume since he had last seen her.

_Well, well, Princess! What a woman you've become. Delicious, delicious indeed!_

"You have best explain yourself, _pirate_," she seethed through closed teeth when she was before him, making sure to accent the word 'pirate'. She leaned forward, and with her right index finger, poked him hard in the chest, which only increased his momentary mental intoxication on her new appearance.

"Explain myself," he questioned teasingly with a raise of a brow. He reached up and grabbed her finger with his hand and gently pushed it aside. "Have I done something wrong?"

"You left me to believe you were _dead_, and never let me know otherwise!"

Boy, she sounded angry, but it only amused him more. He shrugged wilily, which obviously annoyed her, only adding more fuel to her fire. "Untrue, Princess. I sent your ring back to you. You knew I lived." He motioned swiftly to the ring that hung around her neck.

With a scoff, she turned her attention to Basch. "Shall we continue our dinner?"

"Indeed," Basch responded with a nod, tilting his head towards Balthier. "Would you care to join us, and embrace us with your tales of the skies?"

"I think not," cried Ashe, taking a dangerous step towards Basch. "This is supposed to be _our_ time alone to--"

"I would love to," Balthier interrupted her, keeping his eyes on Basch and completely ignoring the flabbergasted Queen. "I have already eaten, but I would enjoy a drink right about now. Besides, it would be a great time to catch up with my dear, old allies."

_I wonder why she is so against my sitting with them for dinner?_

Ashe gave Balthier a hard glare before turning around and heading back into the crowd, most likely towards their table.

_Ah, right. She's mad I failed to visit her._

Once Basch had led him back to their table, they sat regarded each other silently for a moment. Ashe instantly picked up her empty cup and waved it high in the air, motioning to a petite male waiter she desired to have it refilled. The waiter was quick to bring out another goblet filled with a dark red wine. The man turned to Balthier, asking him if he needed something to eat or drink.

"I'll have the same as the Lady," said Balthier, motioning to Ashe as she sipped her wine.

She, for the most part, had kept her eyes on Basch, which greatly intrigued Balthier. She looked like a lonely puppy as she gazed at him with big, round eyes. Basch, in turn, would glance up at her then quickly away. Balthier sat back in his chair, watching with interest. He briefly wondered if there was something between Ashe and Basch, but quickly dismissed it based on the premise that Basch would _never _do such a thing.

When Balthier had his drink and was merrily sipping away on it, Ashe finally decided to acknowledge his presence. _Hopefully, she won't be a wise ass this time, _he thought with pleasure, still proud that he had annoyed her so much.

"Where is Fran," she questioned, almost sweetly, and then proceeded to take a sip of her fresh cup of wine.

"We went our separate ways once we arrived in Archadia two days ago," Balthier explained. "I wanted to visit many of my old acquaintances, and she understood- like the dear she is."

"I would like to see her before I return to Rabanastre," Ashe admitted, sliding her thumb and index finger up and down the thick handle of the goblet cup, which made Balthier smirk. "It _has _been two years, after all."

"Of course," Balthier nodded, watching her fingers move in that provocative way. "When are you leaving?"

"Not before Larsa recovers and we discover who poisoned him," sighed Ashe, continuing to unconsciously stroke the handle. _Looks as if someone is a bit sexually frustrated, _he would wickedly.

She continued, "At least three days."

"Leave it to me, then."

"I want to apologize," she mumbled, taking another sip from her drink. "I should not have been so forward with you when we met just a few minutes ago. It was wrong of me."

"All is forgiven," Balthier told her with a sly wink, which made her narrow her eyes suspiciously. "I assume you are staying in the castle? Yes, good. I shall bring Fran by tomorrow evening, if that is okay with your loyal knight." He laughed internally. He had no interest in bring Fran to Ashe. Fran was extremely busy at the moment, and would visit Ashe on her own time.

Both he and Ashe fixed their gaze onto the overly silent Basch, who nodded in acceptance. "She does not need my approval. I am no longer her sworn knight."

Basch turned his eyes solely on Ashe, and Balthier glanced over to her as well. A look of satisfaction danced across her lovely face, and Balthier once again questioned if there was _something _between the two.

He again tossed the idea out the window, finished his drink, and excused himself from their presence. After all, tomorrow he had a lone date with the unknowing Queen, and he had to get enough sleep so he could pull a long night tomorrow.

* * *

**Author's Note:** To the idea of the BaschAsheBalthier threesome... I squeal with delight. But its been done, extremely well, by icantrememberwho. Its called Blue Ruin, I remember that much. I think I read it on a different website than this... Sorry.

Anyone want to guess as to why Basch was sooo quiet?

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	4. First Taste of Freedom

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**C A R N I V O R E**

**Chapter Four:** _First Taste of Freedom _

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_Passion chokes the flower  
Til she cries no more  
Possessing all the beauty  
Hungry still for more_

**-Silence**

* * *

It was an unusually warm night for Archadia, and Ashe opened the window in her room as wide as it would go. She stood there, by the window, allowing the cooler breeze to sweep onto her face. Reaching down with her one hand, she hiked her floor length skirt up to her knees, attempting to cool off her now bare legs. Her other hand housed a wet washcloth, which she proceeded in dabbing her face and bare midriff with.

A heavy knock sounded, calling Ashe to drop her skirt and turn. In the open doorway stood Balthier, looking as cocky as ever as he leaned against the frame of the doorway. He gave her an arrogant smirk, causing her to roll her sapphire colored eyes at him. Still leaning against the doorway, he motioned to her with one hand.

"I'm afraid you'll have to change, Princess," he said matter-of-factly. Peering his head further into her room, "Where is that lovely coral skirt you once wore?"

She shifted her weight and placed her hands tightly onto her hips. "Why must I change?"

The look on his handsome face was smug. "You can't where _that _where we are going."

_Oh, wonderful, he and Fran are taking me somewhere ghastly._ She took a cautionary step forward, away from the window. "Where are we going?"

"Hurry and change," he spoke slowly, reaching into the room to grab the handle on the door. "You shall see soon enough."

As he began to pull the door close in order to give her some respected privacy, a thought occurred to her. "Balthier!" He paused, casting her another glance. She continued, "Where is Fran?"

He chuckled lowly to himself. "We are meeting her there, my dear Queen!"

She raised a hand to her chin as he closed the door completely. The conniving laughter he had just omitted from his throat made her suspicious. Still, she did want to see her old Viera ally, and would suffer through Balthier's games if she had to. Ashe moved to the dresser in her bedroom and from one of the four drawers removed her 'resistance' outfit. Rapidly, she squeezed out of her royal two piece dress and into the familiar ensemble. She pulled on her boots and metal leg guards as she moved towards the door, hopping on one leg as she dressed the other.

The expression on Balthier's face was one of astonishment to see Ashe so soon. This greatly pleased Ashe; she liked keeping him on his toes, even if it was with something as simple as a clothing change.

"I expected to wait at least thirty minutes," he told her, keeping good posture as he crossed his lean arms over his chest.

_Just because I am Queen does not mean I am the typical stereotype of a woman. _She walked past him towards the stairs, offering him a clever smile. "Do you not know, Balthier? I wear this outfit under my other one."

Even though he was behind her, she could still imagine the stupid grin had probably covered his face.

* * *

The tavern he led her to was located in Old Archadia. It was a very run-down joint, filled with the filthiest varmints of all Ivalice's races. There was at least four Hume barmaids walking around with trays on their arms, filling the mugs of sober and drunk males and females alike. Ashe paused when she was just inside the doorway, understanding immediately why Balthier had wanted her to change.

He stood slightly behind her, his arms once again crossed. Leaning forward, he whispered into her ear, "I used to come here to escape the tyranny of my father."

She shivered as she felt his hot breath on her ear and neck. Ashe offered him a nod, still not looking at him, and choosing instead to continue and survey her surroundings. He moved up a few steps to her side, and while keeping one arm still locked across his chest, used the other to gesture to the rather sloppy environment.

"Is this too much for you to handle, Princess?"

She almost laughed at him, but smirked instead. She eyed one of the few empty tables in the crowded tavern. "You forget I spent two years in hiding. I was used to worse commendations than this." With the end of her sentence, she moved by and him towards the table she had her eyes set on.

She sat rigidly in her chair at first, then forced herself to forgo her royal stature and slumped her posture. She instantly began to scan the room once more. Balthier took the other chair across from her, placing his hands onto the table. He watched her carefully.

"I must admit, I'm surprised," he told her. "I thought you'd walk in here and then walk right back out."

She ignored him, still scanning all the faces in the room.

"I have to ask," he tried again, leaning forward in his chair. "What in the Hell are you looking for?"

"Fran," Ashe said in a monotone. "Is she not here yet?"

Balthier laughed, causing Ashe to revert her gaze back onto him. At the moment of hearing his devilish laugh, Ashe knew Fran was not coming. Somehow, she had known it all along. She narrowed her eyes sharply at him as he grinned idiotically into her face. She felt her pale cheeks flush with anger.

"Relax," he teased. "You never look like you are having any fun. I've decided to show you what fun is. Okay, _Princess_?"

"Excuse me," she sneered, leaning forward in her chair and resting her elbows on the small, round table. "You know nothing of my fun. Do you understand, _Thief_?"

"Touché," he muttered, obviously unhappy about being called a thief. He brightened up quickly, offering the infuriated Queen a slow wink. "So teach me of the fun you know of, Princess. I've ordered us the finest ale you'll find in Old Archadia."

Her words hung heavy on her lush lips. "And why should I stay and drink with someone who has tricked me?"

_He has something up his sleeve_, she knew.

His grin was wicked. "Tell me what you call fun, and I'll destroy whatever delusions you have on it. Then I shall teach you the true meaning."

_The bastard! _

Ashe was not one to back down, especially not on a challenge- no matter how silly it was. She pulled herself back from the table, watching him under her steel-like gaze. "Fine. I will stay for a short while."

He clapped his hands together, the sound and action startling Ashe and causing her to jump slightly in her chair. "That's the spirit! I always knew you had it in you."

"I am very displeased that you lied to me about Fran," Ashe told him, just as one of the less attractive barmaids set the largest pitcher of ale she had ever seen down on the table before them, along with two tall clay glasses. Ashe couldn't help but gasp out, "Oh, goodness!"

Balthier laughed at her surprise, instantly reaching out to fill their glasses with the brew. "Relax, your Majesty! If you cannot finish your share, I will for you."

He slid her filled glass across the table to her, and she gratefully raised the drink to her lips. "Again, you forget who accompanied me during my years of hiding. I believe _I'll _be the one finishing _your _share. "

He raised an eyebrow as she hastily gulped down half of her glass, and she knew he realized she was challenging him.

_That is correct, Balthier, _she thought hazily. _You questioned my ability to have fun. I will prove you wrong._

To accept her challenge, he threw the ale down his throat then poured himself another glass. Ashe quickly finished her first glass as well, extending her glass before him until he gave her a refill.

"Honestly," he admitted, taking a much smaller sip this time. "I would have never guessed you to do something like this."

"You met me during a very strange time in my life," she explained, running her tongue over her upper teeth in order to savor the flavor of the drink. "I had no time for fun, only time to seek salvation, hence my rather fierce and irritable personality. Since we last parted, I've taken my pleasures again."

He smirked at her words, taking another long drink from his glass. "And in what form does the Queen's pleasures manifest in?"

_In more ways than you could possibly imagine. _"Balthier, I would never reveal such things to you."

"Hmph," he grunted, already finishing his second glass of ale. "Then how will I know if you _really do _have fun?"

She released an exasperated sigh. "Fine! I do not have any fun. There, is this settled!?"

"Just as long as you admit it," he replied, relaxing back into his chair and resting his glass on his left knee.

Ashe, feeling annoyed, finished her glass as well and poured them both another round. It had been less than three minutes since they had drunk two enormous glasses of ale, and therefore she could already feel its intoxicating effects on her body. Her body buzzed pleasantly, and her lips went numb, causing her to begin to chew on the lower one. Balthier watched her intensely, his eyes narrowed on her lips.

"Tell me, then," he pried, tilting his head to the side. "If I never _knew _the 'real Ashe' as you claim, then tell me who she is."

"All in good time," she mumbled, enjoying the feeling the terribly bitter ale had given her. Her body begged for more drink, and she satisfied its wish, only intensifying the growing feeling.

"May I ask one question?"

"Is it private?"

"Of course," Balthier grinned, leaning forward and placing his drink on the table.

She thought for a brief moment, then nodded. He proceeded in asking his question, the smile on his face mischievous. "Is there _something _between you and Basch?"

She almost choked on the liquid, her eyes widening at his question. Barely audible, she managed to squeak out, "_Excuse me?_"

"You heard me."

_Something between us? No, nothing between us. Something from me, yes, that there is. His feelings... I could never know..._

"Well?" He almost looked bored.

_Impatient lout. I'll show him._

"Before I tell you," Ashe began carefully, pretending to be embarrassed by shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "You must drink at least four more glasses of ale. I do not wish to feel foolish."

Something- bold and untainted- filled his eyes. His grin widened into something wicked, stretching from ear to ear, and he began to drink. The sly pirate enjoyed games very much, this much Ashe knew. How far he'd be willing to go, well, she was interested in finding out.

_Gulp_. One down, three to go. Curiosity did indeed kill the cat, or in this case, the pirate.

Ashe watched his Adam's Apple bob up and down as he tilted his head back to chug the liquid down. The movement was slight, but the masculinity in it drove her wild. She blinked slowly, finding her eyelids heavy, concentrating hard as he finished his second glass.

She decided to join him in his third, and he happily filled up her glass for her. She knew their contest, their games on each other, their almost _rivalry_, was purely disgusting. She didn't care. While she did have fun in Rabanastre, the break from being a rigid Queen was almost too much for her to bear. Her first taste of real freedom invigorated her, and with her rather addictive personality, all she suddenly cared about was getting _more_. And perhaps he was her gateway.

She was done with her glass before he could even raise his to his lips. He chuckled at her, and she grinned crazily back at him. She could feel her cheeks flush with color from the alcohol inside her. She could no longer hear or see any of the other vile Archadian citizens around her, and suddenly only him and the little table were the only things in her world.

He finally finished his fourth glass, turning his eyes from it and to her. His smile was sloppy at best, and she knew he was as intoxicated as she, although she doubted she appeared as sober as him.

"I held my end of the bargain," he said in that cunning voice of his.

She hesitated. "Nothing," she whispered, her gaze held firmly on his face.

"Pardon?"

"There is nothing between us. Basch and me."

He was slow to understand what she had just told him. After a long moment, the pleasant look on his face slowly faded into one of awe. "You are saying I drank all of that for nothing?"

"Aye."

He burst out laughing, tossing his head backwards. In-between his gasps for air, he managed to spit out, "You clever girl!"

And she was clever, and very damn proud of herself for making him drink for nothing. She gave him a wink, and almost regretted doing so. She would be embarrassed in the morning for sure.

"I'll add," she slurred slightly. "I do find him rather ruggedly attractive."

He appeared amused. "Oh, do you?"

"I do," she released a small giggle, reaching for the pitcher but finding it empty. "I always have. And I've made a promise to myself."

"What is the promise?"

She frowned, running the tip of her index finger around the edge of the pitcher. Bringing it to her lips, she sucked the tiny amount of ale off of it, and watched Balthier's smile vanish from his face. He looked positively captivated by her action.

She knew why. She wasn't stupid. She knew how gorgeous she was, and she embraced her nearly flawless beauty. The look on his face demonstrated to Ashe that he knew how beautiful she was, too. She knew she could use it to her advantage.

"Balthier," she said sweetly, removing her finger from her mouth. She trailed her fingertips down her cheek. "We've run dry on ale. Will you order us some more?"

Slowly, her fingertips grazed their way down her neck. His eyes followed them, and as she slid her hand under the collar of her white overcoat and stroked her collarbone, his mouth opened partially.

_Perfect. I have him where I want him. Men are so very predictable. _

"Balthier," she questioned again, tilting her head from one side to the other. Her soft hair fell in strands across her face. "More ale?"

He shook himself, pulling himself from his daze, and stood. Clearing his throat, he moved off to the bar area, leaving Ashe to her giddiness and satisfaction.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I really wanted to end it here, but be patient! Their 'date' is not yet over. The next chapter will be solely from Balthier and Basch's point of views... and I promise it'll be good. ;) Also, we'll learn exactly how Ashe DOES have fun (other than driving men wild, of course). By the way, I've just changed this story to **an 'M' rating.** There will be sex and lots of it in this story-- nothing that would qualify as a hardcore lemon-- but enough to give this an M rating. Thank ye. :P

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	5. Craving the Untamed

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**C A R N I V O R E**

**Chapter Five: **_Craving the Untamed _

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_Under the shadows, forbidden and hot  
Desire grows, more often than not_

-**Everything Breaks Sometime**

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The pitcher of ale was half way gone by the time Balthier returned to the table with it. He flashed her a white toothed grin as he set the pitcher down, then plopped down in his chair. Reaching up, he wiped a bit of foam off his upper lip with the back of his hand. She struggled not to laugh at him. He looked utterly ridiculous with his messy blonde hair and beer stained mouth. 

"Could you not wait for me," questioned Ashe loudly, pointing her finger at the half empty pitcher.

"My apologies, Princess," he said as he gave her an overly exaggerated wink, and now she laughed at him, knowing how drunk he was. He hiccupped slightly, "I was a bit thirsty."

"Perhaps you should not have any more," she scolded, although equally as drunk and reaching for the alcohol herself. She poured herself yet another glass, and in her haste, it overflowed and splashed onto the table. Bits of the ale splattered up onto her face and neck. Not caring, she raised the glass to her lips and drank heartily from it, then proceeded in making a sour face.

"Gods, I detest ale," she choked out loud, making a gagging sound with her throat.

"If you dislike it so much," he told her, still speaking perfectly despite his obvious drunken state. "Then refrain from drinking."

_How does he manage to speak as if he is sober? Tricky bastard._

She downed the rest of her glass, made another disgusted face, and shuttered violently. She said as she reached for the pitcher again, "Gods, that's good."

He laughed at her, and said again, "Quit drinking!"

"Never," she said a little too loudly. She shook her head sharply and felt the world spin. Clutching her head with her hands, she struggled to make her world come to a standstill but failed.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a figure looming by her table. Tossing her head back, she looked up and saw the figure was an older and quite filthy Hume male. He had a drink in his hand.

_Disgusting. Do people not know of bathing?_

"What's the matter, darlin'," he inquired, sloshing his drink about in the air. "Holdin' yer head like that. What's wrong, pretty? Yer boyfriend 'ere not givin' yew the lovin' yew need?"

"Excuse _me_," Ashe said coldly, feeling put off by the man. "Who are _you_?"

"I'm the man who'll show yew a better time than 'im, I'm sure," he told her, showing off a toothless grin.

"I think not," she scoffed, sickened, then turned back to Balthier. "Are you just going to sit there and allow him to talk to me in such a manner?"

Balthier shrugged, relaxing further into her chair. "It appears as though you can handle yourself."

_Of all the--! Why on Ivalice would he not defend me?_

Mortified, the Queen jumped up to her feet, careful to use the table to help her balance. She glared down at her old ally, swaying slightly on her feet. "You, Balthier, are a selfish, obnoxious pig! You claim to be the 'ladies man' yet know _nothing _of women. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm heading home."

Roughly, she shoved past the dirty man and out of the sleazy tavern. Once outside, she inhaled a sharp breath of the cool air.

_How am I ever going to find my way back to the palace from here?_

* * *

Balthier watched as Ashe left. 

_What in the Hell? I was joking, and she was indeed handling herself quite well. Ah, blasted women!_

He sat there, nervously fingering the handle on his mug, watching the other man carefully. The man looked down at him, noticed Balthier's lack of concern towards Ashe, then decided to follow her out the door.

To this, Balthier knew he had to react. The man was obviously the worst kind of scum that wanted to take advantage of and prey on Ashe's beauty.

Taking a moment to drop a few coins on the table, he stood and left the tavern as well.

It was late, and the streets of Old Archadia were mostly abandoned. He searched in vain for the Queen for a moment, then saw her walking the opposite way in which she intended to go. Behind her stalked the man from inside, and Ashe didn't realize he was there. Lowering his head, Balthier followed both of them.

Suddenly, a drunken and silly thought occurred to him: _If I should wait until he is upon her to make my attack, then I will have redeemed myself. I'll have become her hero. She'll fall into my embrace._

When the man was close to her, Balthier dodged behind a nearby building. He poked his head out from around the side, and watched the scene develop before him.

Hearing footsteps, Ashe quickly turned, looking annoyed. She probably assumed it had been Balthier that tailed her. The look on her face changed to surprise when she recognized the man. They both paused, and the man stroked his long beard.

"Hello," Ashe offered, sounding nervous. She fidgeted.

"My offer fer a good time still stands," he told her, taking a step forward.

Ashe instantly reached for her weapon, and looked horrified when she realized she hadn't brought it with her. The man sensed her fear, smiled at it, and advanced another step.

"No," she said forcefully, her lips curving into an angry snarl. "You have no idea whom you are dealing with. Save yourself the agony and turn back now."

His smile widened; she wasn't fooling anyone. With a low growl, he dove forward. While Ashe's reflexes were usually as quick as a cat, she was currently very tipsy, and therefore didn't react as she should have. His arms enclosed her waist, and he threw her down to the hard wooden floor. As he pulled his body on top of hers, she released a frightened cry.

_Showtime, _Balthier thought wickedly, stepping out from behind the building. He picked up an empty glass bottle from the ground, nearly falling.

The predator became the prey. The ugly man didn't know what hit him. But Ashe saw it coming. Her head had been poking out from underneath his body as she squirmed around. Her eyes widened and she stopped struggling when she saw Balthier loom above them, the glass bottle clutched tightly in his hands.

The man relaxed, resting his body on hers. "Decided to stop resistin'? Smart girl, yew are."

And then the bottle cracked him across the back of his skull with a dull thud. He collapsed completely on top of Ashe. She let out a revolted gasp, then wiggled out from beneath his unconscious body. Balthier offered her a hand, which she gratefully accepted, and climbed to her wobbling legs.

_Get ready for gratitude, _he thought proudly.

"You could have arrived a little sooner," she mumbled, brushing dirt off her short skirt. She kept her head down. "Letting me go off all alone. Some friend you are."

Her reaction shocked him. He thought she'd be in his arms by now. As she went to walk away, he reached out and grabbed her by the crook of her arm, pulling her towards him. "Is this the 'real Ashe' you've yet to tell me about? One who cannot look after herself?"

"Not when she is this intoxicated!" cried Ashe, finally raising her head to look at him. He felt a sharp sting in his heart and conscience when he saw tears falling from her eyes.

Not knowing what to say, he simply shook his head. _Oh, this went terribly wrong, not what I predicted at all._

She sniffled, nodding as if to verify his rudeness. "Goodnight, Balthier."

As she went to stumble away, he kept his hold firm on her arm. She tried to shove him, push him, hit him- but he wouldn't let her. Instead, he pulled her into his embrace, hugging her close to his body.

"I am truly sorry I did not get there earlier," he explained softly, resting his chin on the top of her head.

She slowly pulled back, looking up to meet his gaze. "Let us not end tonight like this."

"How shall we end it, then?" he asked, relieved for the change of topic.

She hesitated, biting her lower lip. She pulled herself completely away from him, and a wildly happy spark lit up her pretty face. "Parties. Men."

He didn't understand. "Pardon?"

"You asked me how I have fun as Queen in Dalmasca," she told him, suddenly looking lively. She spread her arms out as wide as they could reach. "I attend so many evening parties that I fear I will drink myself to an early grave. And then I bring the most attractive and witty man of the evening back to my bedchamber."

Still, Balthier wasn't sure he had heard her correctly. He literally could not picture her being such an untamed vixen. "You bring _who _back to your _what_?"

"Oh, do not be such a prude," she teased, bringing her arms in to tightly hug her chest. "_You _of all people should understand. I am a woman, am I not? I have _needs_. I am only young once and as Queen I may do _whatever _I please, so why should I not take advantage of my privileges? I still do my duties as Queen. I still am a good leader. Why not have fun?"

_I suppose my ideas of the Princess being pure and innocent were delusional. _

"You should have fun," he agreed, unsure how to respond. "But, ah, exactly _how many _men have you brought back?"

She giggled lightly at his question, covering her mouth with her right hand. "Not too many, I must say. I suppose you could call me experienced," with a wink she added, "maybe even more so than you."

_I do not know whether to be aroused or repulsed. _

Sexually veteran women turned him on more than the untainted, but knowing that Ashe had been around frightened him. He had thought for so long that Rasler was the only one she'd been with, and the shock was too much for him.

_Although, the repulsion could be because I am so damn intoxicated. _

"You never would have told me this had you been sober," he grumbled, suddenly wanting to throw up.

"Of course not," she said, looking sick herself. "Gods, I _will _regret this come morning. Please do not remind me of this conversation. I think I would like to forget."

_First she tells me she finds Basch more than attractive, then she admits she plays her cards as Queen quite well. What an evening._

"Do not give me that look," she scolded, letting her arms fall lifelessly to her sides. "Oh, I understand now. It is okay for a _man _to be sexually adventuresome, but not a woman? You _are _a pig."

"When did I say that," he questioned, shrugging his shoulders. "I would _never _think such a thing."

_If she... and I am the same way... Perhaps then, we both could... together... I bet she is quite a savage goddess in bed. Look at her, Gods... So incredibly beautiful. Maybe if we..._

He swallowed hard. Suddenly, she had never looked so gorgeous to him. He had always found her attractive, but the wildly lush look on her currently on her face drove him insane. His heart pounded, and he felt dizzy.

_I do not think I have ever craved someone so much before in my life. _

"Princess," he tried. A shameless grin crossed over his handsome face. "If you would ever like to--"

"_Don't _get any ideas," she interrupted him, instantly killing his buzz. She thought to herself for a moment, then shrugged weakly. "I would like to retire to my bedchamber. And no, I will _not _be taking the most attractive man back to my bed," she gave him a wink, and suddenly he was once again enticed by her flirtations towards him. "I only want to sleep."

The idea didn't upset him. He, too, was exhausted. Besides, he now knew of her mischievous, raunchy self, and would prey on her later. He knew he could eventually have her. The only question on his mind was _when_.

To him, it couldn't come soon enough.

* * *

His armor hung lifelessly from the rack in the corner of the room. Basch looked at it, rubbing at his tired arms with his hands. His flesh ached from the constant feel of steel and metal pressed against it, and nighttime was his one relief from such pains. 

He stood, nude in nothing but the moonlight, gazing wearily at the soft bed that rested before him. It was larger than he wanted' he was usually quite content sleeping on the bare ground. Moving to the bed's side, he smoothed away the silken sheets and pulled his naked form into the bed.

His eyes were shut less than a minute when he heard the knock sound on his door.

It was half past two in the morning, and therefore he expected that whoever shoot at his door brought news on Larsa.

Leaving his cozy bed, he was quick to pull on knee length light brown shorts. Opening the door a crack, he peered out:

Ashe stood there, swaying back and forth on her feet. Tears stained her flushed cheeks, and her arms were folded protectively over her chest.

_What in the world?_

He opened the door wider, allowing light from the hallway to flood his room. "Your Majesty?"

She sniffled, reaching up with one hand to wipe the tears from her face. "Bach. Sorry to bother you so late. May I come in?"

He stood back, granting her access inside. She moved past him, still clutching onto herself. Basch quietly closed the door behind them and turned to face her. "Is everything alright? What has happened?"

She lowered her head, her chin resting on her chest. The full moon that shone through the open window illuminated her, and he could see goose bumps covering her skin. He noticed how her body was shivering ever so slightly. Concerned for her health, Basch moved to his bed, yanking off the top quilt. He took long strides over to Ashe, and, while standing before her, wrapped the quilt around her trembling body. She looked up at him as he did so, her face sad.

"Tell me what has happened," he demanded softly and gently, keeping his large hands grasped tightly on her shoulders in order to steady her.

"Forgive me," she muttered. "I fear I've had too much to drink this evening."

"Did Fran and Balthier not watch over you," questioned Basch warily. _I would have assumed they would have taken better care of royalty. _

"Balthier lied," Ashe confessed abruptly, continuing to quiver. "Fran was _not _there. It was only him and I."

_Why would he have deceived her?_

"And then," cried the Queen. "He allowed me to leave on my _own_, where I was nearly _violated _by a grotesque man."

_What is this! How could Balthier allow such a thing to happen? I have given him my respect and trust, and he betrayed my loyalties. _

Releasing a frustrated cry, she fell forward into him, burying her head into his chest. He could feel her shallow, hot breath on his skin, and it sent a slow shiver up his spine. Hesitantly, he placed his hands on her upper back, hugging her as she pushed furiously on him, as if she wanted to seep into his skin. He could feel her tremble beneath his hands.

Suddenly, she raised her arms above her, allowing the quilt to slide off her shoulders and to the floor. One hand she placed on the back of his neck; the other became entangled in his short, smooth blonde hair. He felt his heart skip a beat, unsure of what she was doing.

Her eyes were heavy as they traveled the length of his face. He looked down at her and noticed her parted lips and slight smile. She stood on the tips of her toes, brining her face close to his. He didn't push her away. When her mouth touched his, and he felt the warmness of her skin and tasted the bitter sweetness of her lips, he still did not push her away. It was when he felt her nails dig into his neck and her effort to deepen the kiss that caused him to push her back and away from him.

_Ashelia, have you lost your mind?_

Her eyes searched his, the expression on her face sentimental. She opened her mouth and whispered, "Basch, please, I..."

Suddenly aware he was wearing nothing more than his half-length trousers, Basch eyed the room, looking for some form of shirt. His open vest lay on a chair behind her, far from his reach.

"Your Majesty," he began slowly. "Return to your bedchamber and rest. You are out of your head at the moment, and I fear the alcohol has gotten the best of you."

"The best of me," she said, swaying again. "I think not. _You_, Basch, have gotten the best of me. The best of my heart. I--"

Her speech was interrupted when Basch's door was thrown wide open, and a young Healer stepped into the room. The Healer narrowed his eyes when he looked at the half-naked Judge and the obviously drunken Queen.

_If he knows what is good for him, he will not comment on the scene before him._

The man cleared his throat. "My apologies, but, his royal Highness has awakened, and requests to see you at once."

Awake! Basch's mind reeled with the news. He had to go see Larsa immediately, and discover if Larsa knew who had poisoned him.

Casting the disappointed looking Ashe a quick glance, Basch headed for the door.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Ahhh please don't dislike my making Ashe a horndog. If you look at all the Kings and Queens in our history, they were all screwing everyone and everything. It only makes sense for Ashe, too. ;)

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	6. Try to Forget

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**Author's Note: **omg, I am so sorry it's taken me so long to update! I've seriously been so incredibly busy finishing up this semester at college. Papers and tests in every class! But I'm back, so expect a chapter or two a week!

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**C A R N I V O R E**

**Chapter Six**: _Try to Forget_

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_Sometimes when I'm alone  
I still feel you; Your breath on my neck  
You're still with me...  
And I'm still dreaming neon black  
I wait for you, to taste your unknown world_

-**Dreaming Neon Black**

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Basch pulled his vest on as he followed the Healer quickly to Larsa's bedroom. He snapped the straps to his vest tightly together, hoping to look as presentable as possible. As he traveled, his mind naturally tried to understand the scenario that had just taken place. The Queen of Dalmasca had been drunk and had kissed him. _Him_- of all people. Just a lowly knight who pretend to be a Judge.

A shiver ran up his spine, and he swore he could still feel her fingers running through his hair. Her velvety voice, low and seemingly needy, haunted him: _'B__asch, please, I...'_

He struggled to ignore his thoughts. After all, Larsa Solidor was awake, and it was imperative he find out if Larsa knew who had poisoned him.

Inside the beautifully and darkly decorated room, the young Archadian Emperor was sitting up in his bed, resting his back against a mountain of pillows. Basch dashed over, hurriedly kneeling by the side of the bed. Larsa wiped a line of perspiration from his forehead, then smiled fondly at his personal protector.

"Gabranth," he said tiredly. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Around three days, my Lord," answered Basch solemnly. "I am sure the Healers have informed you, but you have been poisoned, yet are expected to recover. My Lord, do you have any inclinations on who did this to you?"

A bead of sweat trickled down Larsa's left temple. He made no move to wipe it away, instead choosing to allow his red rimmed eyes to stare numbly at Basch. "I met with an Archadian citizen, who informed me his name was Gallus. He claimed he head rumors of an uprising to throw me from the throne. We spoke over cups of tea, and that is the last I remember."

Basch stood, then reached out and touched Larsa's clammy forearm with his hand. "Rest, your majesty. I shall go and find this Gallus. I will find answers."

Larsa was obviously already exhausted from their small chat. "Thank you, Gabranth," he whispered, relaxing his head back onto a pillow. He closed his eyes and was instantly asleep, breathing deeply and quietly.

As Basch briefly watched Larsa's eyes shift beneath their lids, he wondered how he would find someone based on a name- and most likely a fake one at that. He released Larsa's arm, shifting his eyes up to the Healer present in the room. He gave the man a firm look, as if to say, _'If Larsa dies, you die.' _And with that, he spun on his heels and exited the regal bedroom.

By the time he had reentered his own bedroom, he found it empty. Ashe had vanished, probably back to her own room, and for that Basch was grateful. He wasn't sure how to handle the situation that had developed with her. He needed time to think.

Perhaps he should pretend it never happened. Perhaps, even Ashe wouldn't remember it the following day.

_'You, Basch, have gotten the best of me. The best of my heart. I--'_

He remembered her words all too clearly. Reaching up with his hands, he buried his face deep into his palms.

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The following early evening found Ashe sitting on a round, gray rock just outside the castle's grand entrance. She had managed to pull herself out of her bed an hour ago, as her hangover had been terrible. The very thought of alcohol made her nauseated. Now, her stomach grumbled hungrily, which she found to be a much better alternative to its earlier churning. She had been outside now for thirty minutes, and still the fresh air felt cool and refreshing on her face.

Yet all was not peaceful; for Ashe could clearly see a very smug looking Balthier walking towards the castle. She quickly hung her head and let her hair cover her face, praying he would not recognize her amongst the two dozen people that stood around her. She remembered last night all too well, and the last thing she wanted to do was talk to him.

_Oh, Gods, I told him about my bedroom habits! He will never allow me to forget of my telling him. I will never hear the end of it. Gods, please don't let him see me!_

Her prayers were not answered, and she glanced up from underneath her tangled strands of blonde hair to see his mouth spread into a wicked grin when he recognized her. She swore silently to herself, quickly climbing to her feet and brushing some loose dirt away from her long, elegant dress.

"Princess," he called out to her when he was near. "May I have a word with you?"

_I'd rather you didn't. _"You may."

He stood beside her, his face falling emotionless. "You look terrible. Had a rough mourning, did you?"

"You certainly know how to _charm _a girl," she mumbled, looking down at his feet and suddenly realizing how hideous his shoes were. She glanced up. "Did you need something?"

"I wished to speak to you about last night."

_Damn, he remembered. I'm doomed._ "Forgive my truthfulness yesterday night. I spoke of things I should not. Please, try to forget."

"How could I forget learning that the Queen of Dalmasca is such a nymph?"

He grinned again, and it was cruel. She was offended and found herself unable to speak, so she instead gave him an angry glare and turned sharply away.

Ashe felt his hand on her arm, and she was forced to turn back around to face him. Balthier pulled her a little too close to him, and she felt his breath hot on her face.

"I was joking," he told her with a laugh. "Really, I find it _quite _fascinating... and attractive, if I might add."

She pulled herself roughly out of his grasp and took a step backwards. Placing her hands on her hips, she rolled her eyes at him. "We will _never _speak of this again, do you understand me?"

If it was possible, Balthier's grin widened. She swore she could see all the teeth in his mouth. "Now, now, no need for attitude. If you're a good girl, there will be no need for me to tell anyone."

_Tell anyone?_ Her shock was great; he was, after all, threatening her honor. She spoke quietly and calmly, "Balthier, I had no idea you were so hostile and rude."

He lost his grin; it had turned upside completely and formed itself into a frown. He folded his arms across his lean chest and looked deadly serious. "Well, it has been five years, you know. ...But really, I am sorry for offending you. That was not my intent. I was only trying to lighten the obvious awkward feeling between us."

He sounded sincere enough, and in return she accepted his apology. Still, she frowned and grumbled, "You could have come up with a better way than _that_."

"I know," he told her, looking the perfect picture of guilt as he ran his hand through his blonde hair. "Can we start today's conversation over?"

She shifted her weight from side to side. "I suppose."

He gave her a sly wink, and it made her heart skip a beat. The reaction she felt that the simple gesture his eye made confused her. He bowed before her. "Greetings, Princess. How are you this fine evening?"

_Oh, he is good, _she thought, smirking slightly. _I already forgive him. I might as well; after all, I was rude to him too. _"I am well, Balthier. And yourself?"

"Wonderful, now that I am in your presence," he winked at her again, and once more she felt a twinge inside her heart. For the first time in the last few days, her mind was not on Basch. Balthier continued, "May I ask you to do me a favor?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You may."

He took a daring step towards her, desperately trying to lock his gaze on hers by tilting his head slightly to the side. She obliged, allowing herself to stare deep into the azure depths. His eyes were playful and mischievous, if not a little lustful. The look in his eyes- she felt as if she were looking directly into his soul and seeing his desires. Indeed, Ashe felt as if she was currently the object of his affection. She instantly thought of what he had said to her before they had parted ways the night prior: '_Princess? If you would ever like to--'_ She had interrupted him before he had finished, but she knew what he was going to say.

Still, she couldn't blame the way he was looking at her. After all, the way she had so shamelessly flirted with him last night, telling him that she took the most attractive man at the ball back to her room, then calling him the most 'handsome man at the party' was sure enough to drive any man wild. She had given him the wrong idea.

_Then again, _she thought. _Why not? He is... I am... It is not like we have any ties afterward. _

Yet her heart was still set on Basch.

"Come out with me again tonight," he asked, keeping his eyes locked on hers. "I could use the company."

She was intrigued. "And Fran?"

He laughed loudly, "I will surely invite her this time. You have my word."

As she was about to accept his request, another voice interrupted their conversation: "Your Majesty, we must speak."

Both Ashe and Balthier turned to see Basch, looking like the perfect Judge, standing next to them. Ashe felt flushed, almost shamed that someone in clanky armor had been able to sneak up on her. She had been so absorbed in her moment with Balthier that everything else seemed to have vanished.

"What is it," she asked, concerned. The look on his face was filled with worry.

"His Highness has wakened," he explained, eying both Ashe and Balthier. "It seems as though a man named Gallus has poisoned him. I have spent the day searching for him, and received a tip that he has fled to either the Jahara or the Eruyt village. I will be traveling there this evening in order to peruse this lead. Allow me to accompany you back to you kingdom before I go."

"Absolutely not," Ashe said firmly, walking across the few steps that separated the two of them. "I will come with you. You could use my help; it is not wise to travel alone."

"Your Majesty-" he began.

She interrupted, "I _will_ accompany you, and that is _final_." The idea of being alone with Basch excited her.

"In that case," came Balthier's smug voice. "Allow Fran and I to join you."

Ashe gave Balthier a hard glare, and he shrugged in her direction. "We were heading that way, anyways. Unless Basch has an objection...?"

"I do not," Basch responded. "We could always use extra hands. Find Fran quickly and bring her to the aerodrome. We depart in an hour."

Balthier speedily took off into the crowd of people. As Basch moved to head up the nearby stairs and into the castle, Ashe quickly called for him to stop. He was slow to turn around and look at her.

"I am sorry about last night," she told him quietly, biting her lower lip nervously. "I should have never... kissed you."

Instead of responding, a small smile crossed over his roguish features. As she saw the smile, Ashe felt her heart melt.

_He didn't frown or run away, s_he thought happily._ He didn't try to avoid the situation. He smiled. Perhaps he enjoyed it?_

She watched him head away, leaving her to her own excited thoughts.

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	7. Beneath Closed Eyes

**Author's Note: **Oh, golly gee, it's been a while, yes? Summer was busier than I thought. -- Anyways, back at school, and so I can write again!!! yaaay?

**For my readers who probably need a 'season recap' (lol): **

It's been two years since the events of FF XII, and a more womanly Queen Ashe is excited to see Balthier, Fran, and her long term crush Basch once again. Her visit with Basch was not as pleasant as she wished, for he brought news that Emperor Larsa has been poisoned. Ashe accompanies Basch to Archadia, where they are reunited with Balthier. That night, Ashe vows to make Basch happy (by hopefully becoming his romantic interest), and Balthier vows to sleep with the feisty and beautiful Ashe.

Balthier proves to be different than Ashe remembered, and he constantly teases her and tries to get on her nerves, but she can't deny the attraction between them. He tricks her by taking her out on a 'date' in which she thought Fran would be with them. On their 'date', they both get exceedingly drunk, and Ashe confides in Balthier that she parties frequently and will sleep around with handsome strangers. Balthier, who is disgusted but turned on by this news, offers to be intimate with Ashe, who quickly turns him down.

The same night, a drunken Ashe stumbles into the arms of Basch, where she admits she has feelings for him before planting a quick but unreturned kiss on his lips.

The following evening, Balthier offers to take Ashe out again, and when she is about to accept his invitation, Basch arrives and says that Larsa was woken from his poisoned coma. Basch informs them that he is going to follow a lead on a man named Gallus, who is reported to be at either the Jahara or Eruyt Village. Ashe and Balthier agree to accompany him, and Fran is also to come along.

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**C A R N I V O R E**

**Chapter Seven: **_Beneath Closed Eyes_

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_You say she's unattractive _

_That she doesn't turn you on_

_But that expression on your face _

_Ain't exactly a yawn _

**-Very Big Girl**

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The Jahara Village proved to be a complete bust and an utter waste of time. The Jahara warriors seemed quite put off that four adventures could possibly think they'd allow a near king slayer into their colony. Yet the Jaharan citizens were forgiving, considering how Ashe had helped them in the past. They promised the three Hume's and one Viera that should a man named Gallus appear, they'd hold him and inform Ashe immediately.

Grateful for their understanding and help, the Queen, Judge, and two sky pirates abandoned the town and decided to pursue the lead that Gallus was by the Eruyt Village. For the most part of the journey, Ashe and Basch stuck together while Fran and Balthier fought side by side. The fiends in the Golmore Jungle were easy for the group to slice though, and therefore their travel was mostly pleasant.

However, Ashe's mind was a mess of thoughts; she didn't seem to be able to get Basch or Balthier out of her head. She was still humiliated she had kissed her lifelong crush last night. Yet at the same time she was thrilled, especially since when she had apologized, he simply smiled at her. Her vow to herself that she would have Basch for her own seemed to slowly be coming true.

Balthier was another story. They had only been reunited a mere three days ago, but even she couldn't deny the attraction between them. If her infatuation towards Basch was warm and gentle, her lust for Balthier was painful and fierce. As much as she clung to Basch's side during their journey, she couldn't help but eye Balthier.

And in her mind, she continuously thought: _what if. _

What if she had taken up his offer? '_Princess? If you would ever like to--'_

She played with the idea in her head, imagining what it would be like and how they would treat each other afterwards. Two years ago, he had been her friend and helped her in time of need. Perhaps it was time to follow another path and experience another level of intimate friendship.

And Fran, blast her and her Vieran intuition. Ashe felt as though whenever she looked at Balthier, Fran would catch her staring. And then she would turn that pretty head of hers and whisper something into Balthier's ear.

Her darling Basch remained as regal and naive as ever, his eyes narrowed through the heat of battle and pressing forward to lead the party. Ashe was barely able to even make small talk with him, and she briefly wondered if he was embarrassed by her previous actions. She decided to confront him later about her feelings, and finally admit everything.

As for now, they had finally reached the Eruyt Village. Fran asked to enter alone and seek information on Gallus. She momentarily explained to Ashe and Basch that she had made amends with the Viera over the last two years and was now welcome into her homelands.

Alone at the edge of the village with the two men she desired, Ashe sighed and took a seat on a funny looking rock. She must have looked greatly confused (which she was; she was torn between two men), for the blonde men both had a look of concern across their faces.

Balthier questioned, "Is something wrong, Princess?"

She released another sigh and gestured up towards them. "I have a great deal on my mind at the moment."

Basch shifted uncomfortably, and both Ashe and Balthier noticed his nervousness. Balthier smirked at this, and Ashe wondered if he had the wrong idea. He already suspected something between her and Basch, that much she knew.

"Your Majesty," Basch began. "If I may--"

"How many times must I tell you not to call me 'Majesty'," Ashe growled at him.

"...If I may," he continued, seeming to ignore her request. "I suggest you return to the Strahl and contact the Emperor. Report that we found nothing at Jahara. I doubt Gallus was here either, so inform him the lead was a complete failure."

"Should I not just wait for Fran to return, so we all may travel back together?"

Basch glanced from Ashe to Balthier and then shook his head. "Just go, your Highness. I will wait for Fran. Balthier, will you please accompany her?"

The stern look on Basch's face as he looked at Balthier nearly shocked Ashe. His words seemed to be a test; a very dangerous test that only he knew the outcome to. Balthier was no fool and could see the look on Basch's face. The younger man hesitated slightly, eyes somewhat narrowed, and then released a low sigh.

"Of course," Balthier answered carefully. "I will let no harm will come to her."

With that, Balthier pivoted on his heels and walked off in the direction towards the Jahara. At first, Ashe did not follow. She instead tried to meet Basch's eyes. He was acting quite strange, and she did not like it.

"Basch..." she began.

He refused to meet her curious and concerned gaze. With a wave of his hand, he turned his back to her. This action upset Ashe even more, and she took a step forward and reached out to touch his back.

"Ashelia," stated Basch in a tired voice. Her arm froze in the air. She was surprised he had used her name. He continued, "Go. We will talk later. Much needs to be discussed..."

"Very well," she reluctantly agreed. The nervousness in his voice worried her deeply, and she suddenly didn't know how to react. She hesitated, then slowly turned and began to follow the already far ahead Balthier.

As they silently went on their way, she forced Basch from her mind. She figured that there was no use worrying about the problem now; she wasn't able to do anything about it. The best thing to do was to simply focus on the 'now'.

Except, the 'now' offered her a whole slew of new issues.

It occurred when they had finally returned to the Strahl, which was docked about a mile away from the Jahara's village entrance. Balthier was up to his old tricks again of trying to make her mad.

When they were about fifty yards away from the Strahl, Balthier halted in his tracks so suddenly that Ashe stopped as well.

"What is wrong," Ashe breathed, a bit weary from all the walking and fighting.

"While we are alone, I wish to ask you a question." The grin on his face was wild, and Ashe knew he was up to no good.

She decided to play along. "And?"

"Just _how _many men have you been intimate with?"

The boldness of the question startled her, and she had to think a moment before answering. "How is that any of your business?"

His grin widened. "I will tell you how many I have been with."

The Queen hesitated. "Men?"

He scoffed, "You know what I mean."

She smiled cruelly back at him, and decided to indulge his question. After all, she was curious as to how many he had been with. "Six."

She waited for a reaction and received none. His facial expression did not change. "So I see."

"That is not too many, you know," she instinctively defended herself. "As a Queen I could be in the hundreds by now. It averages out to a mere three a year."

"Alright." He looked bored.

She was almost insulted by his lack of response. "So, what is your number?"

"Hmm?" He mumbled, pretending to have not listened to her. "Oh. That is private information. Not worth telling, mind you. I cannot believe you told me."

She was irate. He had promised to tell her in exchange for her number, and he had lied! _Still_, she told herself, _you must have expected this from him_.

"Six men," he said with a low whistle, finally showing emotion. "Do you have any kind of-- _fungus_-- growing on your nether regions?"

_That does it! _

His comment was the lowest of the low. The _worst _anyone had dared to say to her and most certainly _not _true. She was so enraged by his blunt cruelty that her body completely froze, with the exception of her shaking hands. His eyes searched her face, eagerly awaiting her reaction.

As angry as she was, she forced herself to swallow back her fury and shrug her slender shoulders. She was _finally _starting to understand his game. The way he watched her... he _wanted _to make her mad. He _wanted _to make her sweat and get pissed at him. She realized that it was, in a sick and twisted way, his way of flirting with her. He was like a little boy who threw stones at a girl when he wanted her to notice him. It didn't matter if the attention he received from her was negative; it was still attention.

She knew he didn't mean the comments he said. She knew he had nothing but the best intentions, but she was still infuriated. She inhaled sharply, trying to control her urge to wipe the stupid look off his face with her hand.

"Should I take your silence as a yes?"

"You pompous, mindless bastard," she swore through grated teeth, her emotions coming free. It was in her nature, after all, to not let anyone undermine her. "How dare you say such things to me!"

He seemed to become overjoyed by her reaction, as she knew he would be. "Please, Princess, there is no need for name calling."

"You know what you said is not true!"

"How could I possibly know?" He feigned innocence, placing his hands defensively over his heart.

She had enough of his games. Her feelings got the best of her, and she pulled back her right arm and extended her hand. Quickly, her hand cut through the air in its effort to smack him hard across his face. Unfortunately for Ashe, his reflexes were as quick as a cat, and he grabbed her wrist with his left hand when it was inches away from his cheek. She instinctively tried to pull her arm away, but he held his grip firm.

"Now now, Princess," Balthier told her, his facial expression considerably darker but still pleased. "It is not nice to hit people."

"You deserve it," she hissed through closed teeth, trying once again to free her arm. His grip tightened, and he pulled her slightly towards him, until their bodies near touched, and she could feel his breath hot on her face.

"Perhaps you have anger management problems," he smirked at her. "The whole slapping thing. You damn near slapped me, and I know you slapped poor Basch two years ago. Shame shame, Princess."

She shoved at him with her free hand in an effort to free herself. He combated this action by grabbing onto her other wrist and pushing her slowly backwards. She offered resistance, but he was stronger than her. He backed her up until her back was flat against a rock wall.

"Release me," she commanded sharply, glaring up into his proud face.

He pinned her arms high above her head, stretching out her body which cause her to arch her back. Her torso met his.

"I'm warning you," she cautioned in a dark tone. He only grinned harder, thinking the whole thing to be a delectable game.

Little did he know, however, was that Ashe was a personal fan of being pinned down and tied up. It had always been a fantasy of hers, and the suitors that she brought to her bedroom were often commanded to do such things to her. The fact that Balthier was now in charge and she was at his mercy drove her completely wild. She again struggled- not enough to free herself, but enough to cause him to grip her tighter. She stared wide-eyed at his face, which was only a few inches from hers, and ground her teeth at the sight of him:

His soft hair falling onto his sweat laced forehead. His juicy lips which were curled into a pleased snarl. His untamed eyes were filled with lust and longing. Lust and longing for _her_.

The sexual tension between them seemed to pulse and thrive until Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca thought she would explode unless one of them did something about it. Honestly, she didn't believe she had felt so weak in the knees for as long as she had lived. Not even her beloved Basch could make her feel so powerless and hungry. She yearned to have her needs fulfilled, right then and right there and right next to the jagged rock wall.

He looked her face over and noted her desire filled expression. The words came out from his mouth were smooth and inviting: "What are you going to do about it?"

It sounded like a dare, to her. She weakly struggled a final time, but it was clear he wasn't going to release her. Not unless she gave him what _he _wanted. Not until she gave into what _she _wanted.

Her azure eyes traveled down to his lips, which seemed to pulse with anticipation. Quickly and without warning, she threw her mouth onto his and pressed their lips together as hard as she could.

She instantly tried to pull herself back and witness his reaction, but he wouldn't give her the chance. An inch of space separated their faces before Balthier forced yet another kiss, crushing their lips together so violently that she gasped into his mouth. He released her arms and instantly slid his hands down the sides of her body, toying with her belt as he went. Then he paused, as if he was unsure if he was doing the right thing.

To reassure him, Ashe deepened the kiss, biting down onto his lower lip hard enough to make him flinch. He seemed to love it, however, and moved his hands down and behind her and grasped at her butt. She arched her back even further than it was, pushing herself into him, and raised her left leg up to his side. Her hands were all over his body- touching and exploring every crevice they could.

Getting the idea, Balthier hoisted her up, pinning her once more to the rock wall. Waist to waist, she wrapped her legs around him and briefly broke their passionate yet sloppy kiss. She looked down into his face. Their eyes met and reflected each other's intense yearning. She was already out of breath but didn't care; she needed to taste his mouth again. As their kiss resumed, he pulled her away from the wall but still cradled her up. When they fell to the hard, dirt ground, he was on top of her.

She swore that she could _see _fireworks beneath her closed eyelids as she whimpered out his name and begged him to take their passion further.

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**Author's Note** o.O sorry if the first part of the chapter sucked. I was trying to get back into the writing groove... Plus I had to set it up for the end of the chapter/beginning of the next. The next chapter will contain more graphic detail than this (but not a lemon). Be warned. Enjoy :) Reviews (bad and good!) welcome. :)

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	8. Silent Warriors

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**C A R N I V O R E**

**Chapter Eight: **_Silent Warriors_

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_You are so vicious. Hurt me, I can take it  
Cause it's all in the heat of the moment,  
It's all in the pain_

**-Deadhead**

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Being alone with Fran seemed like quite a strange thing. They didn't participate in any form of communication aside from shouting commands to each other during battle. At first it felt awkward to him to not hear any voices while traveling. It also made him curious as to why they had traveled together once before yet never talked. It felt as though it was too late to form a relationship with her. _And it was a pity, _Basch thought. _For it feels as though we could have much in common and much to talk about._

The two silent warriors continued on their way back to the Strahl. Fran had emerged from her village not long ago with little and disappointing news: Her sisters had heard nothing of Gallus or an attempt to slay the king. Basch had shuddered involuntarily when Fran uttered "king" and "slayer" within the same sentence. Those words were all too familiar to him, and many times those words were followed by some man kicking him in the gut.

At the moment, he was feeling rather inferior. He had pursued a lead and had failed in his efforts. He hoped that the Emperor would not be too disappointed in him. He had dealt with enough disappoint in his life.

The sun was setting by the time the duo neared the Strahl. It hung on the edge of the horizon, washing the land in its warm, golden light. It was such a pleasant evening that Basch felt himself relax.

That is, until he saw Balthier and Ashe about twenty yards away from him.

At first, he was naive, and wondered why on Ivalice she was laying on the ground with him on top of her. Quickly did his stupidity give way when he realized _exactly _what was happening. He stopped dead in his tracks, and his mouth fell open. His eyes were fixated on them, his heart skipped a beat due to the shock.

The Queen and the pirate were engaging in sex.

Barbaric, beastly sex.

She was on her back in the dirt, her pink skirt pushed up in haste around her abdomen. Her legs were wrapped up around his back, as if they were clutching on for dear life. Her matching pink underwear had been stretched and pulled roughly to the side to give Balthier easier access to her most private of parts. Her arms were extended far behind her head, and she sought to grasp something with her hands in order to hold on and steady herself against the insistent pounding from Balthier.

Balthier, whose leather pants were pulled down to his knees, exposed the world to his pale rear end. He was raised up slightly above her, looked down at Ashe during the entire experience. Her head was tilted back and away from him, exposing her throat, so he lowered himself down in order to greedily kiss her neck. Her eyes were closed tightly, and small whimpers of pleasure escaped her slightly open mouth. His booted feet dug hard into the ground in order to hammer as vigorously as he could into her, and Basch was momentarily impressed on Balthier's seemingly extreme stamina and power.

Balthier raised himself up again to give himself a better angle, and once again looked down at her face. His expression was filled with determination, pleasure, and glory.

Only a mere few seconds had elapsed since Basch had stumbled upon the two going at it fiercely, but it felt like a lifetime for him. He could feel his face grow hot with anger, and he balled his hands tightly into fists. Grinding his teeth together in rage, he eyed Balthier with loathing.

_I cannot witness this anymore_, he thought with disgust. _It is too much. I cannot... Ashelia, what has gotten into you? How could you?_

Spinning around on his heels, he pushed past an amused looking Fran and stormed away as quickly as he could. He had to get away from the sight. He had to somehow burn the images of them out of his mind.

As he hurried off, he heard her voice in his mind, and remembered what she had said just last night: _'You, Basch, have gotten the best of me. The best of my heart. I--'_

He narrowed his eyes in fury and came to a stop. He was now far away from the Strahl and allowed himself to collapse into the dirt covered ground. He placed his elbows onto his knees and buried his weary face into the palms of his hands.

_The best of her? The best of her heart? _He was a wreck of emotional thoughts. _Did she only pretend to care for me in order to keep light off of her relationship with Balthier? Did she lie directly to my face that night? Did she really play me for so great a fool?_

He released an anguished cry and tore his face from his hands. _I am a fool._

He was so wrapped up in his shock and grief that he didn't even hear Fran approach him from behind.

Her soft voice came out, "He wanted her from the start."

He quickly snapped his head in her direction when he heard her speak. He stood swiftly and faced her. Curiously, he asked, "From the start of when?"

"From when he first met her two years ago," she explained, watching him carefully with her challenging eyes. "She was all he ever wanted, though he shall never admit it. A challenge, perhaps, he thought of her."

The idea that Balthier had always been hot for the Queen did nothing to relieve Basch. "Then why did he never pursue her before? Or did he?"

The slender Viera shrugged her shoulders. "She was vulnerable, he knew. She is not anymore; now she is strong and capable."

"This is preposterous," he bellowed as he shook his head lightly. "She is royalty! He is only a thief. How dare he dishonor her in such a way!"

Fran raised a silver eyebrow and gave him a smirk. She voiced a single word, but it was a word that would haunt him for days to come: "Jealous?"

That stopped him. He went to disagree but the words caught in his throat. He hesitated and digested the word. _Jealous_.

_Jealous? I think not. How could I possibly be jealous of a thief corrupting a young Queen? Angry, yes, but certainly not jealous. Ashelia is a sister to me, and nothing more, _he thought initially. But the knowing gaze on Fran's face chilled him to the bone, as did the fact that his heart had broke when he thought that Ashe had lied to him about being in love with him.

He would contemplate this later. For now, he had to protect his own honor. "Jealous? Hardly. I simply worry for her as any loyal knight would worry for his Queen."

"_Your _Queen?" questioned the intuitive Viera.

Sweat began to form beads across his brow. "You know what I mean."

The smile on her face formed slowly and knowingly. "I believe I do."

"Enough of this," he waved her comment aside, pretending to be annoyed even though he was terrified inside. "Do you think they are done? We must contact the Emperor."

She glanced behind her, looking to be in thought.

"Most likely," he said before she could respond. Hostility entered his voice: "It has been ten minutes since we spotted them, and I cannot imagine Balthier capable of continuing such fornications very long."

Fran took obvious note of his voiced envy and resentment and simply shrugged. She gestured behind her, signaling that she would follow his lead. Inhaling sharply, Basch pushed once again past her and directed them both back towards the Strahl.

They approached slowly, both afraid of returning to a scene of promiscuity. Yet the couple was no longer laying where they had been; instead, they stood just outside the Strahl, seeming to be discussing something very important.

Balthier saw them approach first, and gave them both a wide grin. Basch felt his blood boil inside of him as he stared at the overly confident Balthier, but did his best to mask his fury. Ashe turned around to greet them as well, and Basch noticed that she was practically _glowing_. She must have had a _really _good time. He shuddered at the thought.

Her face lit up even more when she saw Basch. He felt his heart burn inside his chest when he observed how happy she was to see him. His confusion lingered, and Fran's word of '_jealousy' _flashed back into his brain.

"Hello," she said pleasantly as she approached them. "What news of Gallus being here?"

"None," Basch replied with a sigh. He crossed his strong arms across his chest. "Did you contact the Emperor?"

A look of embarrassment crossed over her pretty features. "Ah, no. I completely got sidetracked and forgot."

He eyed her cautiously. "What did you get sidetracked with?"

A deep scarlet flushed across her cheeks. "Ah, nothing. I suppose we should contact Larsa now."

The four of them made their way inside the Strahl, and Balthier proceeded in setting up a communication to Archadia.

Unfortunately, the news was not good.

The person they managed to radio briefly explained that there was an attack on the castle, and that many were dead and the Emperor had just been taken hostage no more than ten minutes ago.

Time was short. They needed to get back to the castle right away, and Basch was irate. They all quickly took their seats, with Fran and Balthier in the front, and Basch and Ashe sitting just behind them.

As Balthier piloted them away from the Jahara, Basch said through ground teeth, "Ashelia, please explain to me why you did not radio Archadia."

Everyone could hear the anger in his calm voice. Ashe hesitated, then responded, "I..."

"Had you contacted them immediately," Basch seethed. "Perhaps we could have saved time. Perhaps we could have even reached Archadia before anything happened to the Emperor."

"I.. I am sorry," Ashe apologized, looking at him with a face filled with worry.

"Why did you not radio?" He questioned again.

She was not a good liar. "I... I forgot."

_Forgot, my ass!_

"Forgot?" Roared Basch, nearly rising from his seat in the cockpit. "Forgot! Perhaps you were too busy _fucking _that thief instead of worrying about the _safety _of his Majesty!"

She released a meek gasp, then promptly covered her mouth with her hands. In front of him, Balthier flinched but was smart and didn't dare look back or say a word. None of them had ever seen Basch so irate and use such crude language. Basch watched through narrowed slits of eyes as Ashe shrank into her seat.

"You were _watching_?" she questioned timidly.

He snorted but spoke quieter, "It was not as if you tried _hard _to conceal yourself, your Highness."

She squirmed uncomfortably in her seat, her face losing the just-had-sex glow that she had earlier. She didn't answer, so Basch spoke for her:

"Should something terrible happen to Lord Larsa, I want you to remember that you are at fault."

She glanced at him, a look of shock crossing over her features. She began to shake. "Basch, I--"

"Silence," he commanded, visibly shaking himself. It wasn't everyday that he told off royalty. "I want to hear nothing more on this matter. I just want to rescue the Emperor."

With that, he faced forward in his seat, and watched as Balthier's face grew red from embarrassment. He would deal with him later.

* * *

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**Yipe!! Don't worry AshexBasch fans, your day is coming:) ((and more AshexBalthier moments, too!))

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	9. From the Heart

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**C A R N I V O R E**

**Chapter Nine: **_From the Heart_

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_All the passion_

_All the heat, the peace, the pain_

_All those blue skies- where your words were my freedom_

_Please, don't let me fall in love with you_

**-Don't**

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The interior of Archadia's Grand Castle was literally littered with bodies. _It seems strange, _Balthier thought, _that nobody on the outside of the walls seems to know. _It was as if the violence that had occurred had been committed silently. The victims inside were all innocent bystanders: maids, lowly soldiers, and visiting townsfolk. Their wounds were few: the blades of swords had made one or two precise cuts on the dead. Balthier tried not to look at the carnage that surrounded him but failed. He stared as they marched quickly to the throne room, completely alarmed by the sight.

They foursome encountered many wounded on the way. They were few and far between, and when they were spotted, they shrank away with fright. Ashe instantly tried to establish communication with the frightened people, but they seemed emotionally damaged beyond repair. Basch insisted that they ignore them for now.

"The Emperor's life is far greater than that of these," he said, his eyes narrowed with demented determination. And so they followed his lead and tore through the blood sprayed halls until they reached the grand throne room.

Basch was the first to enter. He pounded through the closed double doors as if the devil himself was chasing him. He dashed inside, with Ashe close on his heels.

They stopped dead in their tracks. Ashe released a startled cry.

Balthier cast a quick glance towards his sky partner, whose expression echoed his. They both knew the news was not good. Carefully, Balthier entered the room.

He ignored the bodies of the Archadian soldiers and instead stared ahead to the richly decorated throne. The windows behind the throne were misted with blood, and it seemed to have come from the battered, small figure which slumped forward lifelessly in the throne chair.

"Fuck," Balthier mumbled inaudibly under his breath. Fran, who was now by his side, had heard him. She sighed slightly, letting her eyes fall half-closed.

Ashe remained frozen, but Basch began to make a slow approach to the limp body of Larsa Solidor. He appeared shaky on his legs, and so Fran dashed out past him. Brave as she was, she knew that only she could approach such a terrible sight. Sticking out from the middle of the boy-king's chest was a dagger, and pinned under the dagger was a small sheet of parchment paper.

She knelt beside Larsa and peered curiously at him. She reached up and pushed back the hair from his face with her long fingers and tilted her head to witness his last expression. Then, with one quick and smooth effort, she yanked the blade from Larsa's chest and pulled the paper from the dagger. Ashe let out another frightened gasp to see the blade removed and appeared faint. Balthier wanted nothing more than to reach out for her and pull her tight. He wanted nothing more than to shield her from such horrors, but he knew he couldn't. Instead, he stayed where he was behind Ashe and Basch, and wisely kept quiet.

Fran's expression was solemn as she approached Basch. Nobody needed to ask her to confirm the fact that Larsa was dead- her face said it all. She handed him the bloodstained paper, and he gripped it tightly with his shaking right hand. He read it quickly, then inhaled sharply. He looked ready to scream, but somehow managed to keep his emotions contained. He crumpled the paper up into his fist. All eyes watched him and waited for him to speak.

"It appears that the rumor of Gallus being in the Jahara or Eruyt Villages was a false report meant to throw us off," he said rather calmly as he turned to face the group. "They did not want a Judge near the Emperor when they attacked."

"What did the note say," questioned Ashe after a brief moment of silence. Her voice shook as she spoke.

He hesitated and then stated in a monotone voice, "... 'The tyrant is dead. Archadia is free. The true blood shall fight his way home and ascend to make way for the Heavens to come. Run, tyrant's Judge. Run'."

"Civil war," Ashe noted, raising an eyebrow and staring hard at Basch's still face.

"Then you must flee," Fran blurted out. Ashe and Basch quickly snapped their heads in her direction. The Viera's face was dark. "Should a civil war break out, gladly will they be to kill the personal Judge of Larsa Solidor."

"I _cannot _leave this country to ruin," Basch objected, finally filling his voice with anguish and anger.

"I say," Balthier chipped in, taking a few steps towards his allies. "It is better to serve your kingdom from afar than from in the grave, hmm?"

Ashe nodded slightly, but Basch refused to look at him. Coldly, he retorted, "I will _not _heed the advise from a _thief_."

Although Balthier was momentarily taken aback by Basch's hate filled words, he didn't show it. He simply kept his face void of all emotion as he usually did. He let the women do his arguing for him. Fran folded her arms over her chest in disapproval and Ashe quickly closed the distance between her and him.

"Are you mad," she demanded in that authoritative tone of hers. She tiled her head slightly as she glared up at him. "If we stay here, we die. If we go, we can fight for Archadia from safety! Do _not _let Larsa's death be in vain! Do you _wish _to die, Basch?"

He barely looked down at her. "I cannot abandon my duties."

Letting out a disgusted cry, Ashe shoved Basch with all her might. He stumbled sideways, his intense emotionless expression breaking. He regained his balance and turned to face her, his eyes a mess of pain.

"Your Majesty, I--"

"Would you have _me _murdered, too?" Ashe demanded, her face red with fury. "Perhaps you would like for them to wipe out _two _of Ivalice's leaders in one battle. If you stay, I stay with _you_. I promised you days ago that should this happen, I would remain by your side and help you solve this dilemma. Should I stay and die, too?"

He stared down at her, the expression on his face soft, like a sad puppy that had just been scolded for soiling the carpet. Balthier tilted his head as he watched Basch's face. He thought, _Is he... completely whipped for her?_

After an uncomfortable moment of pondering and glares from Ashe, Basch turned and approached the throne. Ashe, looking satisfied, let him go, knowing that he had made up his mind to say goodbye. They all watched, the burden of this death weighing hard on all of their hearts.

Before Larsa's battered body, Basch kneeled. He touched the tiny feet, and then said with a strained voice, "My liege. Forgive me. I have failed you. But your kingdom is not lost, this I swear to you. I _will _have it back in your name."

With that, he turned and stood and approached them. He stopped before Ashe, meeting her eyes. To her he said, "Let us go, then."

And so they were off, fleeing from the castle as if they were the murderers themselves.

* * *

The trip back to Rabanastre had been a silent one. Each of them mourned the death of Larsa in their own private way. None of them cried- it seemed so unnatural for any of them to shed tears in front of anyone. They were all strong, capable people that kept their inner turmoil inside of them. Besides, they had all dealt with the deaths of many loved ones in the past- this was not a new feeling to them. 

Once they reached Rabanastre they separated. Fran headed out into town to find out whatever information she could. Balthier went with her, but not before giving Ashe a long, sympathetic glance. Basch, who was dressed in street clothes in order to keep a low profile, accompanied Ashe to her castle. She immediately went to her council, where she quickly explained the situation to them. They promised to solve the problem. Together, the council, Ashe, and Basch tried to work through the situation. By the time they decided to break for sleep for the evening, it was nearly two in the morning.

Ashe couldn't sleep. Her plush bed felt oddly uncomfortable and foreign to her. She ended up staring at her ceiling for an hour. Her mind haunted her. Basch's angry words filled her head continuously.

_'Should something terrible happen to Lord Larsa, I want you to remember that you are at fault.'_

She shuddered, rolling over onto her side and curling up into a ball. Her heart had broken when he had said those words to her. The look that had been on his face... the disgust, the hurt, the anger... her heart ached just remembering. And why? Why was he so upset?

He had witness her sleeping with Balthier.

Even though her heart twinged because she had offended Basch, it quickly skipped a beat from excitement at the very memory of her lustful encounter with Balthier. She rolled back onto her back, spreading her legs and arms wide. Her eyes shut, she remembered his face being filled with such hunger and desperation for her. She remembered ripping at his pants, frantic to have him inside her. It had been good; no, it had been _brilliantly marvelous_. She had never felt so _needy _for someone before. She had never felt that for any of her suitors, not even for her dear, sweet Rasler.

Balthier meant something special to her. She just couldn't quite place it yet. The white, hot passion she felt for him was enough to render her blind, yet she hated him at the same time.

She rolled onto her side again, and a sigh escaped from her parched throat. She didn't want to think of him. What she had done with him had hurt Basch.

_But why?_

_Why did he care?_

Releasing a frustrated sigh, she angrily threw her silk sheets from her weary body and climbed from her large bed.

_He told me two days ago that we would 'talk' later, _she thought dryly. _It is certainly later. I need to know what he felt when I drunkenly kissed him._

Intoxicated from sleeplessness, Ashe didn't bother to change from her long, silver nightgown into regular clothes. She yanked open her bedroom door and dashed out, surprising the two guards that were posted outside. She cast a glance at them as they peered at her curiously.

Basch's bedroom was two hallways down from hers, and she ran there as fast as her bare feet could carry her. She didn't hesitate when she reached his door; she did not care if she woke him up or not. She barged in, stumbling into the moonlit darkness. Light from the hall flooded in behind her. Breathing heavily, she peered around the room until her eyes came to rest on the bed. Basch was not in it.

She scoffed, wondering where he had gone to so late at night. Then, from the small balcony that hung off the room, came his voice:

"Your Highness?"

Her eyes snapped to the direction of his confused voice. Upon recognizing his figure, she turned and quietly closed the bedroom door. He began to take a few steps towards her, but she signaled him to stay where he was. Instead, she approached him, wishing to stand on the balcony with him in order to bathe in the moonlight and cool night air.

When she was a few feet away from him, she noticed that his expression was filled with concern. She gave him a confused look and stated, "I am not here to announce more bad news. I simply wish to talk."

He looked relieved at first, but then puzzled. Tilting his head slightly, he questioned, "Talk? I mean no offense, your Majesty, but it is near three in the morning. I hardly think it a good hour to talk."

"You told me we could talk..."

"Not now," he told her harshly. "For now, I need to be alone."

She nodded slightly, and went to move from the balcony and head back to her room. But she froze in midstep. _I cannot go back to my room and look at the ceiling again_, she thought wildly. _I must know what he is thinking!_

"No," she spoke loudly, turned around to face him. "I am Queen and you are in my kingdom. I _order _you to talk to me."

He stared at her for a moment, his face containing no emotion. Then he nodded. "...Very well."

She moved to the railing of the balcony and peered out over the night lights of her grand city. Everything seemed so peaceful. Yet up on the balcony, her heart was a mess. And she knew his was, too.

"I apologize for... the kiss," she whispered, allowing her eyes to drift half closed.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him look over at her. He didn't respond.

"I need to know how you feel," she began, her voice filling with genuine emotion. "Did it make you hate me?"

"Hate you?" he questioned, sounding stunned. "How could I possibly hate you? I have never hated you, nor will I ever. I am your sworn protector, am I not?"

"Not anymore," she reminded him. Inhaling the cold air slowly and tilting her head back, she closed her eyes completely, finally beginning to relax. "Basch, I must tell you something. Now, before I lose my courage."

"Alright." He sounded hesitant, as if he knew what she was going to say.

"You mean _everything _to me," she confessed, keeping her head back and eyes closed. Then, all of her emotions poured out of her. Slowly, smoothly, and softly they tumbled from her mouth. "You were my childhood crush. You were always in my life, always present, always watching me. You were my personal knight. My knight in shining armor, as I'd like to pretend. I thought I loved you. And then... I _hated _you, for so long. But I was wrong, and then when everything was back to normal, you left me. I know you had to, but- it hurt. I missed you. _Everyday _I missed you. And your back, and... and I..." Her voice trailed off. She opened her eyes.

Still, he did not respond. Even after she had poured her heart out to him. She knew she had rambled on, but she still expected him to respond.

Chuckling from embarrassment, she dropped her head down and stared at her bare feet. Her soft, blonde hair fell into her face. "You probably look at me and still see a little child."

"No," he finally responded. His deep voice was quiet and thoughtful. "This past evening I realized that you are indeed a very grown up woman."

She raised her head to look at him, knowing that he was speaking of her romp with Balthier. Her brow was furrowed slightly, her mouth hanging partially open. He stared back at her, the expression on his face tender.

"You were not supposed to see that," Ashe mumbled, looking straight ahead back over the city.

"Do you love him?" Basch inquired, continuing to stare at her.

She laughed at this, but still refused to look his way. "Certainly not!"

He didn't seem to understand. "Forgive me, your Majesty, but why would you do such a thing if you did not love him?"

"Can you honestly tell me that in your younger years you never once had a quick, sexual encounter?"

It took him a moment to respond. "When I was far younger, perhaps. But I was a foolish teenaged boy who did not yet have duties; duties such as you yourself have."

To this she glanced his way again. "Then you do not want to know what I have been doing these past two years."

His face darkened. "Him?"

Ashe quickly noted the intense jealousy that had been unknowingly slipped into the word. "Not him. Others."

"_Others_?" He was clearly appalled.

She grinned wickedly at his astonishment. "You said so yourself, I am not a little girl anymore."

"But you are royalty; meant to be chaste and--"

"Do not give me that," she snapped, rolling her eyes at him. "What did my father do? His father before him? Or my brothers? Or even my mother! Why do you think Al-Cid acts the way he does? Why are Al-Cid's kin all known for their promiscuity?"

Basch did not answer; he did not need to. He knew _exactly _what they all did.

"I was _bred _and _raised _on trite sexual encounters," she explained, forcing herself to calm down. "It is what royalty _does_, Basch. Why do you think I would be any different?"

He looked wounded. "Is that all Balthier was to you? A 'trite' encounter? Is that... all I would be to you?"

His words cut her to the bone. She scoffed, narrowing her eyes. "You _know _you would be more than that to me."

But she had damaged him somehow. Her words had hurt him more than she knew, and she wasn't sure what she had said to injure him so much. He turned and leaned against the balcony's railing.

"I feel weary," he explained in a rather cold voice. "If your would please leave me, I am in need of sleep."

She moved forward to touch him. "Basch, I do not understand."

He pulled away from her violently. "You have weighed this upon me at the worst possible time, your Highness."

She didn't understand, and stood frozen to her spot.

Sensing her confusion, he impatiently and hastily explained, "I made a promise to my brother that I would protect Lord Larsa and _failed _miserably. I _failed _Larsa, I _failed _Gabranth, I _failed _your father, and I _failed _you. While all this is going through my consciousness, you _pour _your heart to me and it only adds _more _to my guilt. _Why _on Ivalice would you tell me such a thing the day his Highness is murdered? On the day I realized that I completely failed at my life and _all _my duties?"

She shrank back and away from him, completely numb. "I..."

"Just go," he snapped, sounding angry. His tone reminded her of the one he had used when he discovered her and Balthier.

_I am a selfish fool. How could I think that this would all work out perfectly? That it would somehow make him more cheerful? _She mentally kicked herself. _Ashelia, you thoughtless bitch! He wanted to be alone with his grief and you made it to be about you. He was suffering and you made him suffer more._

Hurt and humiliated by him and herself, Ashe swiftly reached out and grabbed the sides of his head with her hands. She forced his head towards hers and planted a quick kiss on his quivering lips. Keeping his head firm between her hands, she allowed her pain to penetrate her voice as she whispered out:

"I am sorry if my heart breaking ruined your night. I am sorry I have done this to you. Forgive me."

With that, she released him and rushed away from him. Out through his bedroom door and down the long corridors back to her room, with tears streaming down her face as she went on her way.

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	10. The Tale of Stone Aged Male Dominance

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**Author's Note: **P.S. I hate Justin Timberlake and his music. But it just fits so well here, ja?

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**C A R N I V O R E**

**Chapter Ten: **_The Tale of Stone Aged Male Dominance_

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Dirty babe

_You see these shackles_

_Baby, I'm your slave_

_I'll let you whip me if I misbehave_

_It's just that no one makes me feel this way_

**-Sexy Back**

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The day following Larsa's untimely demise was a strange one. No news came from Archadia that the Emperor had been killed. Ashe naturally found this very odd. Someone should have reported his death by now. The idea that it was being covered up worried the Queen to no end. Of this matter, Ashe spoke to her trusted councilmen. They too were made nervous by the situation. They decided that of the guilty members that had slain Larsa, many of them had to be higher-ups in his court. Unless, of course, they were _all _dead as well. But that seemed highly unlikely. 

And so it was decided to keep Basch's whereabouts a secret. After all, he had been mentioned in the death note found on Larsa's body. As for Ashe, she was to go on pretending that she had no idea that Larsa was dead. This verdict hurt her emotionally. She was Queen, and part of her duties were to openly mourn the passing of a ruler from a sister kingdom. She felt like she was cheating Larsa, and to this she was greatly opposed. She had reluctantly agreed to pretend, but only if her council continued to investigate the murder.

Basch had not been present for the meeting, and so Ashe volunteered to seek him out and tell him of their decision to keep him in hiding for the time being. The only problem was that he was not inside the castle, and Ashe had no idea where he could possibly be found.

She left the castle grounds, determined to find him.

* * *

Sitting at a table in the upper level section of the Sandsea pub in Rabanastre, Balthier sucked down his drink while he waited patiently for the morning to turn into evening. He planned on sneaking into the Queen's bedchamber that night and having his way with her. He smirked into his glass of dark beer as he imagined it: past midnight, the wind howling outside, the look on her face as she woke to see him towering above her. She would be afraid to see an intruder, then recognize him, and pull him into her bed. _No_, he fantasized_, that's not how it would go_. _I would pull her out of bed and shove her against the wall. Yeah, she seemed to enjoy the rough play last time._

He tingled with anticipation and found himself surprised by this. He had bedded women before, and usually got bored with them after the first time. But Ashe... she was something else. She was full of passion, fury, and heat. Nobody had ever made him feel this way before.

_I do not know if I could ever get tired of her._

Someone approached him and stopped directly before his table. Ashe's face vanished from his mind as he hastily glanced up to see who it was who intruded his thoughts.

"Afternoon, Bunansa," Basch gruffed out with a nod.

Balthier raised a golden eyebrow as he took in Basch's appearance. The older man looked like he didn't sleep a wink the night before. His short hair, usually slicked up and back in perfection, now hung hard against his forehead. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his skin had a yellow tint. He looked nothing like the Emperor's personal Judge.

"Hello," Balthier replied, keeping an eyebrow raised.

"Where is Fran?"

Balthier snickered. "Not here, obviously. We aren't joined at the hip, you know. We are not the same entity."

Basch mumbled something under his breath and leaned forward, placing his rugged hands flat against Balthier's tiny table. Eye level with Balthier, Basch grinned wickedly, and Balthier could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"You have been drinking," Balthier stated, relaxing back into his chair.

"Aye," Basch admitted quickly. "As have you."

"Well, yes," Balthier chuckled. "We all know I drink heartily." Then, he added in a condescending voice, "But you, old friend, are not one to drink. My my, what is the matter?"

Basch snorted and sat heavily into the chair adjacent Balthier. He waved his hand sloppily through the air. "Do not be foolish. His Majesty Larsa is dead. I am quite disheartened."

"A tragedy, yes, but no reason for you to give into the bottle," Balthier scolded him.

"You do not even know the half of it," Basch informed him. He leaned forward and placed his elbows onto his knees then placed his chin in his hands. He didn't take his eyes off Balthier. "I have lost more than you could _possibly _imagine."

Balthier's brow furrowed. "What else have you lost?"

The look on Basch's face was dark and ominous. He didn't reply, but the glare was enough to send shivers down Balthier's spine, and he was not easily frightened. Balthier decided to fight back and press Basch's buttons.

He sat up straight, grabbed his beer, and finished the last remnants in the cup. He pretended to think hard, scratching at his chin and narrowing his eyes. "Something that you lost. Let's see... Could that be a certain Queen of Dalmasca? A certain woman named Ashe?"

A look of surprise passed over Basch's face. He also sat up in his chair. "You will not call her so informally, pirate."

To this Balthier burst out laughing, which caused Basch to scowl. "I do believe that her and I are _way _past such titles, do you not agree?"

Basch blinked hard. "No, I think not."

Balthier could practically _see _Basch's blood boiling, and so he pressed further: "In case you were wondering, it is true what they say. Once you have royalty, nothing else compares. Phew, she was something else. You can bet I will be seeing _more _of her soon."

"Please, I do not need details." He looked like he was going to be sick.

But Balthier wasn't done torturing him. "You could hear her moans, I'm sure. Crying out my name as she dug her nails into my back..."

The drunken Basch began to lose it. "You wretched, cowardly--" he hissed, beginning to rise from his chair.

Balthier cut him off with a wave of his hand and a flash of his teeth. "Cowardly, me? At least _I _had the stomach to tell her how I truly felt. _You _are the coward, ex-knight. _You _cannot tell her how you feel."

Basch relaxed slightly and appeared to be thinking. His face drooped. "You are mistaken. I care for her as nothing more than a loyal guardian."

Balthier groaned, tossing his head back. He spoke loudly and forcefully, "Lies. Lies, Basch!"

He jumped up from his chair, choosing to approach the awed Basch. He walked over and placed his left foot up on the edge of Basch's chair, right in-between his legs. He leaned down onto his thigh and stared Basch right in the face. "You may say whatever you wish. But you and I both know the truth. You wish to the _Gods _that you had made a move before me, that it had been you lying on top of her- that it had been you _inside _of her."

He jerked his foot forward, lightly smacking Basch's crotch with his boot. Basch flinched, his eyes wide with astonishment.

Balthier smirked for a second, then stepped away from Basch. More calmly, he concluded, "You see, old friend, you are not mad because I bedded the Queen. You are jealous that she is _mine _and not _yours_."

"That is enough!" growled Basch, jumping up from his chair so forcefully that he sent it crashing backwards to the ground. He was breathing hard, his shoulders tight and square, his hands balled into fists. "You _will _stay away from her, do you _understand _me? If I even see you talking to her, I _will _kill _you_."

Balthier noted that Basch's fists were quivering with anger. He darted his eyes down to them and back up, meeting the elder man's eyes. "I do not think it wise of you to threaten me."

At that tense moment, when at the slightest move they would attack each other, Ashe walked into the pub and spotted them on the upper level. She darted up the stairs quickly, not sensing their intense anger.

"Basch!" came her voice, startling both of the men out of their deep trance.

They both turned to look at her. She moved besides them, casting quick looks at them both. She looked as if she finally realized she had interrupted something _really bad_, and paused.

After an awkward moment of silence, she spoke. "Uhh, Basch? I must speak with you. It is urgent."

He took a step towards her, his face filling with concern. "Your Majesty? What is it?"

"Please, let's return to the castle," she asked, glancing nervously towards Balthier.

"Alright," Basch nodded, suddenly looking very sober.

As they turned to go, Balthier called out her name. They both turned to look at him, Ashe's face filled with curiosity and Basch's face filled with malice. He took a daring step close to her.

"So, I will see you tonight?" He questioned, the tone of his voice smooth and sexy.

"Tonight?" questioned Ashe, looking confused.

Feeling Basch's eyes hot on him, he slowly began to walk past Ashe. He kept his eyes on her, and hers lingered on him. Just as he was about to pass her, he reached up and ran the tips of his fingers across the exposed crevice in-between her neck and collarbone. The skin puckered out, covered with goose bumps, and she sighed and shivered with noticeable enjoyment.

"I will come for you tonight," he whispered hotly into her ear, just loud enough for Basch to hear him.

After Ashe came Basch, and he bumped hard into his shoulder as he waltzed by.

Basch completely went over the edge. Letting out a low snarl, he whirled around and grabbed Balthier by the back of his shirt collar. Yanking him back, Basch reeled his arm back then forward swiftly, punching Balthier square in the jaw.

_Son of a bitch!_

Balthier, startled and disoriented from the punch, yanked himself free of Basch's grip and spun around to face him.

"Basch!" came Ashe's stunned voice. "Why the hell did you do such a thing?"

But Basch wasn't listening to her, and neither was Balthier. They were slowly circling each other, both in their battle stances, both with their fists ready to deal sharp blows. Balthier, even though he was defending himself, suddenly wanted to kick the living daylight out of Basch. Basch was competition, and he knew it.

It was the tale of stone aged male dominance: fight for the female, and whoever wins gets to keep her.

"Please, let's _not _behave like children," Ashe begged.

Basch took another swing, but Balthier was smaller and more agile. He dove into Basch, head butting his stomach and wrapping his arms around the larger mans waist. Basch grunted and struggled to pull Balthier off of him, but Balthier answered by releasing him with his right arm and giving him several jabs to his side. Basch would have doubled over from pain, but Balthier was practically holding him up. Snarling, Basch managed to punch Balthier directly in the right ear.

"I _command _you both! _Stop_!" Ashe shouted out.

Pain shot through Balthier's entire body, and he collapsed to the floor. But his grip on Basch's torso was strong, and Basch crashed down with him. Basch instantly had the advantage; he curled Balthier up under his weight and pounded him in the stomach.

"Stop it! _Stop_, _stop_, _stop_!" Her words were wasted.

Choking on his air, Balthier shakingly blocked one of Basch's blows and struck him in the nose. Blood spurted out from Basch's face, covering both his face and Balthiers. Blind with rage, the two men continued to roll about on the floor, both exhausted but still managing to get several punched or slaps in on each other.

Neither of them noticed Ashe throw herself down next to them, determined to end their fight. Neither of them noticed her hands on them, trying to pull them apart. They _did _notice, however, when someone's hand accidentally flew back and smashed right into her face.

None of them knew whose hand it was that struck her.

She tumbled backwards, letting out a baffled cry. The men instantly stopped fighting, pushing each other aside so they could dizzily climb to their aching feet. Basch sniffed, wiping blood from his nose with the back of his hand. Balthier was breathing hard, his stomach bruised from where he had been punched several times.

Ashe climbed to her feet, her hands across her left cheek. She lowered them, looking bewildered. Balthier let out a low sigh: she had been smacked so hard that her skin had been cut. Blood leaked down her face. Her blue eyes were wide, and she stared at them both as if she didn't recognize them.

"Ashelia," Basch started, hesitantly moving towards her.

She winced and pulled back from them. She stared down at the blood on her hands, and her face grew dark. When she slowly raised her head to look back at them, her lips were drawn into a thin line, her eyes narrowed and filled with unhappiness. She whipped her hands down to her side, causing some of the blood to shoot off of her.

"I am only going to ask this once," she snarled through clenched teeth. "What is happening amid you two that is so _unpleasant _that you felt the way to resolve it was through violence?"

Neither of them answered her. Neither of them knew what to say. Instead, they both stared at her, their expressions blank yet filled with guilt.

She glanced between them both from under her eyelashes as she waited for an explanation. When she received none, she let out an aggravated sigh. "Fine."

She shoved herself past them and walked cockily down the steps to the lower level then out of the Sandsea, past startled looking pub customers. Balthier turned to watch her go, then glanced towards Basch. He continued to stare in the direction that Ashe had stood. He looked like he was feeling guilty.

_It appears as though I won't be welcome tonight, after all. _

Balthier closed his eyes and sighed, replaying the look Ashe had given them in his mind. His heart suddenly hurt inside him. The idea of Ashe being mad at him made him sick to his stomach. And to this he thought: _Grow a set, Balthier. Do not allow yourself to become whipped by a woman._

"I meant my words," Basch suddenly mumbled to him. He watched him carefully from the corner of his eye. "Stay away from the Queen."

Balthier sniggered, and turned around to leave the Sandsea as well. Over his shoulder, he retorted, "I will make you a deal. The day you admit to me _and _her that you have feelings for her, I will leave her alone."

Confident that the day would never come, the battered Balthier left the pub whistling.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Har har harrrr... I love making people beat each other up for the love of a woman. :) Its very true about men, isn't it?

* * *


	11. The Rage Subsides

**Author's Note:** If you're curious, I have a new story up. It's called **Masquerade**, and it features every possible pairing you can think of... including my biggest fear (BalthierxFran) as well as some fairly unheard of pairings (FranxAshe). :) 

I'm curious, does anyone look at the lyrics I post at the beginning of each chapter? I try to relate them to the story. This one refers to how Ashe kissed Basch on his bedroom balcony.

* * *

**C A R N I V O R E**

**Chapter Eleven:** _The Rage Subsides_

* * *

_In starlit nights I saw you_

_So cruelly you kissed me_

_Your lips a magic world_

Your sky all hung with jewels

-The Killing Moon

* * *

Ashe was in one her many office rooms, sitting at a desk like table as she furiously read through and filled out various paperwork. Her travels to Archadia within the last week had left her behind in many of her duties, and she decided to take out her anger by doing as much work as possible. She exerted herself for a good two hours after leaving the Sandsea pub, choosing to skip lunch in order to keep working. She usually left the doors open while she worked- she hated feeling isolated from the outside world. This time, however, she wished she had left them closed. For a quick knock on the doorframe and a respectful bow from Basch left a bitter taste in her mouth.

She hardly looked at him when he stood in the doorway. Instead, she released a sigh and motioned him with her non-writing hand to enter. He did as she commanded, and she glanced up at him only when he was in front of her desk. She looked up slowly, as if it was a horrible inconvenience for her.

His nose looked swollen. She frowned slightly.

"Majesty," he spoke quietly.

"Did you need something?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow and pretending to be bored.

The corners of his mouth turned downwards. "You requested me to meet with you."

"Ah, yes," she said as if suddenly remembering. She dropped her pen to the table, leaned back in her chair, and sized him up. "It has been decided that you will stay here- in the castle- until further notice. You are under our protection until we can find this Gallus character."

He tilted his head to the side. "Understood..." He hesitated, seeming to be surprised that she had nothing more to say. After all, she had been nothing but words with him recently. "Will that be all?"

"Dismissed," she said coldly.

She watched him hesitate where he stood, then he clasped his hands behind his back and waited.

"Go ahead," he said softly. "Ask."

He's a cunning bastard, isn't he? she thought, but he is right. She wanted to know why he and Balthier fought. It was driving her insane.

"Why?" she inquired, her utter confusion and disappointment escaping through her voice.

He took a deep breath, but then his voice caught in his throat. Barely did a noise emerge before he thought better and closed his mouth again. His brow furrowed and he looked away.

"Is this over... my relationship with him?" There was pain in her tone.

He looked up at her, his face filled with regret. She sighed and bit her lower lip. Releasing a low chuckle, she shook her head and looked down at her lap.

"Please understand," she began, looking back to him with a stern expression on her pretty face. "I... I want you, but you have made it wholly apparent that you do not harbor the same feelings for me as I do for you. ...What else can I do but move on?"

He shook his head faintly but did not speak. Again he opened his mouth as if to say something but then hurriedly closed it.

Ashe nodded, more to herself than to him. He does not want you, she convinced herself. He never did; he never will. It is time to move on.

"As I thought," she finished with a tired, blank smile. "Dismissed."

Withdrawing the pen from the table back to her hand, she lowered her head over the mountain of papers before her and continued her work once more. By the time she looked back up, he was gone, having slipped silently away while her heart ached inside her.

* * *

Basch was bored. 

He wasn't at all used to being cooped up without any kind of duty. He always had something to do. Now without any rhyme or reason to be in Dalmasca, Basch felt entirely lost. And so the evening found him in the Estersands, attacking various big game in order to solve his boredom.

As the sand stung his eyes, he found that he was disappointed in his skills. He hadn't done much fighting since putting Ashe back on the throne, and so his ability with the sword was quite rusty. He figured he would take this "house arrest" as an opportunity to get back all that he had lost battle wise.

He sniffled and gently probed at his aching nose. He figured Balthier had broken it; it was swollen and extremely painful to the touch. As guilty and disgusted that he felt about attacking his younger rival, he sincerely hoped he had delivered hard enough blows to make Balthier piss blood for the next week. In fact, Basch took much of his aggression towards Balthier out on the creatures he fought that evening.

Most of the aggression he was feeling, however, was directed at himself.

He was infuriated with himself about how he had been behaving. Yes, Larsa was dead- he had failed at being a protector- but it was no reason to drink heavily and attack old allies in the local tavern. But, aside from his issues with Balthier, he was heavily bothered about the situation with Ashe.

Even he could no longer declare that he was completely without feelings for the Queen of Dalmasca.

As much of a jerk that Balthier was, he had been right. Basch would never have been so angry if had not felt something for Ashe. Disappointed, sure, but not angry. Not jealous. His heart wouldn't have felt torn had he not felt something for her.

When she had confessed her feelings to him, he had only dismissed it as a silly schoolgirl's crush. Now, he thrived on the very thought of her love for him.

Quickly, he shook himself mentally. He bitterly thought, It matters not if she loves you. Your duty is to the throne, and having romantic feelings for the Queen will only compromise your judgment, let alone her honor as well as yours.

He gripped his blade tighter in his right hand.

You are near old enough to be her father.

That thought troubled him greatly. Countless times in the past he had seen Vossler prey on girls Ashe's age, and even though Basch had generally overlooked his comrade's lust for young women, he had found it disgusting.

That is, until now. Now he felt longing intertwined with the feeling of disgust. He cursed the Gods for placing something so beautiful and perfect before him but just beyond his reach. He couldn't believe how positively frustrating it was to feel such things for a woman. It was no matter. He couldn't have her, no matter how much she wanted him or how much he wanted her. It would go against anything he had ever learned. It would go against his very being.

To sooth his dissatisfaction, Basch eyed a nasty looking fiend twenty yards before him. Raising his blade before his body, he sunk his body low and began to approach his new victim. The wolf-like creature spotted his advance and released a low warning growl, but this did not frighten away the ex-Knight. He grinned wickedly at his prey as he continued to slowly close in on the wolf.

Yet, much to Basch's surprise, the wolf let out a startled yelp. Turning, it raced away with its tail lodged between its hind legs. Curious to this new predicament, Basch stood up straight. Knowing that it had not been him that had scared away the creature, he turned around to see what was behind him.

Twenty or so men approached him. Each were dressed in expensive steel armor, equipped with long swords that were aimed at him. In the middle of these men walked a peasant looking man. The man, who couldn't have been older than twenty, had wavy chestnut colored hair that fell into his cold brown eyes.

Basch kept a battle stance as he addressed the supposed leader of the group. "You must be Gallus."

The man smirked, and his voice came out as icy as his eyes. "Ah, so I see that the late Larsa has spoken of me."

"You will not refer to him by his name," growled Basch defensively. He could feel the anger begin to swell inside his veins, boiling his blood. "You are the murderer of royalty, and for that you will hang."

Gallus' smirk remained strong. "Gabranth, please, there is no need for hostility. You must come with us immediately."

He thinks I am truly my brother.

"And should I refuse?" Basch demanded, narrowing his blue eyes.

The man lost all signs of his smile. He bared his teeth as he spoke. "Then you will leave me no choice but to have my men beat you until you reconsider. Would you prefer that ghastly scenario?"

Basch dug his booted feet deep into the sand as he raised his blade high. His voice was filled with courageousness: "You are welcome to try."

Gallus motioned to his men to continue their advance on the lone ex-knight. "Then you are welcome to fall."

Basch let them come, then began to defend himself.

* * *

The game was fun to Balthier. Secretly following the Queen through her well-guarded castle gave him a great sense of thrill. He was sly and quiet in his sneaking. He had to be in order to be such a successful sky pirate. But now the hour grew late as he followed the Queen towards her bedroom for the night. Still, she had no idea he followed her. 

Balthier knew how obsessed he was becoming over Ashe, but he didn't care. He was completely addicted to her and had to have more of her. He wanted to touch her, to have her touch him. He wanted to grab her and never let her go. Even if he could just talk to her...

She said goodnight to the guards outside her door and went inside. Balthier watched from around the corner, wondering how he could sneak past the two guards. Grinning to himself, he decided to take the most direct route possible: he simply walked directly over to the guards, claiming that he had an appointment with her Highness.

The men knocked on the door in order to confirm the meeting. Ashe answered the door warily, eyeing Balthier heavily as the guards questioned his purpose.

"He is permitted inside," she told her guards. They nodded and stepped back, allowing Balthier entrance into Ashe's bedroom.

She closed the door behind them, shutting the guards out, and waited as he visually explored her room.

"Balthier," she asked, annoyance rich in her tone. "It is late. What is the meaning of this intrusion?"

Intrusion? He almost laughed at her choice of words. She was still mad at him for his afternoon fight with Basch, he knew, but that didn't stop him. Cockily, he strolled over to her, grabbing at her hands and forcing her arms around his waist. She went to pull back, but he forced his mouth onto hers and kissed her hard.

She kissed back.

He had expected her to push away, to slap him, to do anything but what she did. Pleasantly surprised, he drew her closer to him, all at once feeling completely at peace.

He had teased her relentlessly in the past week, torturing her with his cruel words, but at that moment none of it seemed to matter. He regretted every ill thing he had ever said to her. She moved her hands to his chest, attempting to unbuckle the straps which held on his vest. He slid his hands up her wrists and pulled her away. As much as he craved sex, he had to tell her something first.

"Ashe," he whispered, pulling his mouth from hers and looking her square in the eye. Confusion flooded her face.

"Before we-- I must tell you--"

His voice was interrupted, however, by the sound of loud knocking at her door. Spinning around, Ashe dashed away from Balthier and over to the door. As she opened the door, in came a blood splattered individual. Her guards followed the wounded man into her room.

"Majesty," one of the guards said. "We found him wondering the castle, moaning that he needed to speak with you."

The man suffered several slash marks to the face, chest, and back. As he collapsed to her marble floor, Ashe fell to her knees beside him. She touched his back, asking him his name and what happened to him.

"Your Highness," the man choked out, raising his face up to look at the Queen. "I was out in the Estersands when a group of men attacked a blonde haired man. They captured him and then spotted me. They sent me here to deliver you a message, Majesty."

"What message is that," questioned Ashe, narrowing her eyes into the strangers face.

"...'We have Gabranth, and if you want him to live, come promptly- alone- to the Feywood'." With that, the man choked something terrible, spasmed, then lay motionless on the floor.

Ashe stood slowly from the deceased figure. She did not grieve for the dead messanger. Her eyes were still narrowed, and she was clearly thinking hard. Turning sharply, she addressed the anxious Balthier, "This will have to wait until I return."

Balthier was exasperated. "Ashe, I cannot let you go alone."

She knew this as well as he did, and nodded to him. "Then I shall go first. Follow behind me, but keep distance. If you see me in trouble, please step in."

Without waiting to see if he would agree, Ashe stepped over the body on the floor and left her room.

* * *


	12. Being Alone is Prison

**Author's Note: **Okay, for this chapter, you gotta remember the Feywood. Do you recall wondering through there, and constantly seeing flashes of images (such as your reflection)? Well that plays a major part of this chapter. _FOR THIS STORIES PURPOSE, THE MIST NOT ONLY LETS YOU SEE REFLECTIONS, BUT ALSO CAUSES YOU TO HALLUCINATE. _I think that's cool.

P.S. The Feywood was my favorite place in the game. Mirrorknights equal mad cash.

* * *

**C A R N I V O R E**

**Chapter Twelve: **_Being Alone Is Prison_

* * *

_All of my life I was in hiding_

_Wishing there was someone just like you_

_Now that you're here, now that I've found you_

_I know that you're the one to pull me through_

**-Deliver Me**

* * *

He opened his eyes slowly. His whole body ached from the blows he had received from Gallus and his men. He had fought valiantly, but in the end he had been outmatched and sank before them. Now he found himself chained to a decaying tree. But where was he? As his eyes finally allowed him to focus, he saw a shimmering reflection of himself that quickly vanished. The air was thick with dense mist, and Basch realized almost instantaneously that he was imprisoned in the Feywood. 

A chill ran up his spine. The Feywood spooked him. A strange area of living and decaying nature, it housed sand and water and ice. It was capable of altering one's sense of visual and mental perception, and Basch was one to want to let his sleeping beasts lie dormant.

Instinctively, he pulled hard at his chains which held him, wondering where his captors had gone. Had they abandoned him? Were they coming back to end his life? The chains were strong, and his efforts to free himself were in vain. Because he was so weak from battle, he was left no choice but to rest against the tree and wait for whatever doom was coming for him.

He visibly shook from dehydration and lack of blood. His teeth chattered as he waited. Fortunately, he didn't wait for long. For Gallus soon approached him, his face emotionless as he looked on at his swollen and bruised handiwork. Instantly, Basch tried to break his chains in order to reach and destroy the younger man.

"_You_." The word that ripped from Basch's throat was filled with anger.

Gallus acted surprised. He placed his hands innocently against his chest. "Me?"

Basch snarled, "King slayer. I _will _kill you."

His captor was amused. "Were you this hostile towards your dear twin brother- the other King slayer? Were you not the one who executed him for the murder of King Raminas?"

_He believes me to be Gabranth_, Basch realized. He thought it best to allow Gallus to continue to believe that lie. _For now._

Indeed, the tale had been that Judge Gabranth had been the executioner of Basch. However, nobody had known that the two were siblings. But Gallus somehow knew.

"Aye," Basch admitted with a low nod. He kept his eyes heavy on Gallus, searching for any kind of weakness. "And should I think to take my own brother's life, how well do you think you shall fare against my blade?"

"Should you even free yourself from your bonds," Gallus reminded him, a small smile forming over his handsome face as he glanced towards Basch's chained arms.

Basch had been imprisoned before, and therefore understood the great difficulties that there was in breaking chain. He knew he would never free himself, especially since he was already disoriented from blood loss. A moment of silence passed between the two, and then Gallus shrugged.

"I will take my leave of you," he explained with a wave of his hand. "The mist will do the interrogation for me, lest I feel inclined to dirtying my hands."

"Interrogation?" inquired the beaten ex-knight quizzingly.

Gallus chuckled deeply. "I shall return tomorrow and receive all the answers I desire."

With that, Gallus pivoted and dashed off, quickly vanishing from Basch's sight into the sea of mist. Basch relaxed back against the tree, glancing around him. The sounds of mysterious, mutated creatures filled his ears, and he shivered yet again. The monsters in the Feywood were ferocious, and Basch doubted he would live to see Gallus' return.

Still, he didn't understand. _How could mist interrogate me? _

To his right rested a pool of shimmering water. Basch knew that it contained vast amounts of mist and normally he would never think of drinking it. However, his feeling of thirst was so great that he wished to the Gods he could reach the liquid. When he leaned over and tried, his arms came up just short. He was left feeling without hope for survival. And so he sat, breathing deeply and staring out into the mist for hours. He watched as the mist pulsed and vibrated, changing forms and often showing him reflections of his battered self.

Yet three hours into his growing delusion, Basch finally experienced some real hope.

His brother, dressed fully in his Judge's armor with the exception of his helmet, stepped through the dense mist. At first Basch thought it was another reflection of himself, but when Gabranth dropped to his knees before Basch, he let out a startled cry and forced himself backwards.

"You! You're _alive_!" Basch breathed, his eyes wide with shock.

"Of course I am alive," Gabranth answered, the tone in his voice as condescending as it always had been. "You didn't think I would go down _that _easily, did you?"

Gabranth leaned towards Basch, and Basch could clearly see that the outline of Gabranth's body was shimmering and releasing spores of mist. However, Basch thought nothing of this, and truly believed that his brother was indeed kneeling before him. Everything about Gabranth looked _so _vivid and real.

_He is alive, _Basch thought in excited disbelief. _Now I can clear my conscience and go free!_

"Brother," Basch told him quietly. "I have failed you. The young Lord... he... He was slain. I could not protect him as I promised you."

"Lord Larsa?" questioned Gabranth, raising an eyebrow in confusion. Puzzled, Basch's brother turned slightly and looked back over his shoulder. "Your Majesty, I've found Basch! This way!"

If possible, Basch's eyes widened further. He leaned left, eyes searching through the dense mist. Sure enough, Larsa himself stepped through the curtain of mist. Once he spotted Basch, the young boy's eyes lit up with glee and he dashed forward to Basch's side.

"My Liege!" Basch managed to choke out, suddenly overcome with relief to see that the boy was alive.

Larsa's eyes scanned over Basch's imprisoned body. He frowned slightly, then reached a white gloved hand out and rested it gently on Basch's right forearm. The touch was so light that Basch could not feel it, and had he not seen Larsa touch him, he would have doubted he had been touched at all.

"You are wounded," Larsa expressed sadly. "Forgive me. I should not have allowed them to take you. I had to pretend to have been slain, you see. I had to draw the enemy out."

Basch ignored Larsa's sympathy and reached out to touch Larsa. "Majesty, how? I saw your body. I saw the blood."

Basch's hand _entered _Larsa's chest, and Larsa shimmered brightly. Basch's hand had completely gone through Larsa as if he was made of air. Horrified, Basch retracted his arm, looking down at his hand as if he had dipped it into acid.

He glanced back up at Larsa, whose expression was still cheerless. "What trickery is this!?"

"Basch, we must ask you something very important," Gabranth said sternly. Basch quickly turned his head and met his brother's impatient eyes.

"My hand--" Basch began.

"A simple trick, but there is no time for us to explain," Gabranth interrupted. He leaned forward, his face inches away from Basch's. Basch could feel Gabranth's breath hot on his cheek. _Or wait, no, was that the feel of mist? _

"It is imperative you answer. Is Queen Ashelia working with the Empire? Is she planning to attack Rozarria?"

Basch blinked, breathing hard. "Working with the Empire? They are allies, as she is allied with Rozarria." He paused, confused. "What is this? Should you not know that Lady Ashe is allied with you?"

He turned towards Larsa. "You and her Majesty are friends, correct?"

Larsa's expression turned grim. "No longer."

As he turned to look back at his brother, Gabranth suddenly turned transparent. Basch could see right through him, and he suddenly looked like an image that the mist had created. Distraught, Basch pulled back.

"What is wrong?" Gabranth questioned, but now his voice sounded as faded as he looked.

"Y-you..." Basch struggled to say, dizziness beginning to set into his bones.

"Basch, will Queen Ashelia attack Rozarria?" Gabranth demanded again.

This time, he reappeared more vividly than normal. His figure was so bright that Basch found himself squinting as he stared at him.

_An illusion, _Basch finally realized. _That is why my hand passed through Larsa. They are illusions created by the mist._

"You are not real," Basch uttered, not hiding the disappointment in his voice. He let his head sink down to his chest.

"Answer the question," Gabranth snapped, obviously losing patience.

"You are not real!" Basch shouted out, throwing himself forward against his chains. His arms stretched out as far as they could go, he threw himself against Gabranth. As he collided, he found that Gabranth was made of nothing but mist, and evaporated as soon as Basch entered him.

Once Gabranth was gone, Basch turned and did the same to the startled looking Larsa.

"Wait, no!" the fake Larsa cried out, raising an arm to defend himself. But he, too, turned into dust.

Breathing hard, Basch collapsed back down onto his butt, placing his head in his hands. He was shaking intensely, finding himself wrought with grief that his dead brother and Emperor had falsely manifested before him. The mist was cruel, and all at once Basch remembered the feeling he felt when Larsa had died: the pain, the despair, and knowing that he had failed his brother and all of Archadia.

Forcing back a dry sob, Basch lowered his hands from his face and looked ahead of him. He gasped, seeing that the scene had changed before him. The mist had turned his outdoor Feywood world into the cell in which he had been imprisoned for two years. He knew exactly what awaited him next: his first meeting with his allies. The mist was somehow playing one of his memories out before him.

Three familiar faces approached his cage: Fran, Balthier, and young Vaan. The first two proceeded in ignoring Basch, but Vaan kept his eyes on him.

Balthier motioned to the surroundings. "What is this place?"

Fran looked down past Basch, peering into the dark abyss that was beneath him. "The mist is flowing through this room. It must be going somewhere."

The words flowed effortlessly from Basch's mouth, the exact same words that he had said over two years ago: "You! You're no Imperials. _Please_, you _must _get me out--"

Balthier quickly interrupted him, but dared not look at him. "It's against my policy to speak with the dead. _Especially _when they happen to be King slayers."

Again, Basch released the same words as he had once before: "I did not kill him."

But before Balthier could reply with the same phrase he had used two years ago, Basch tried a different approach. "Balthier, please. We have gone over this before. Gabranth murdered his Majesty. You have to get me out. I fear Gallus may be after the Lady Ashe!"

"You realize of course that the Princess is dead," Balthier told him, still refusing to look at him.

Basch felt his heart skip a beat inside of him at the thought of Ashe being dead, but then quickly dismissed his near panic. He realized, after all, that this was merely his memory being shown before him. To this version of Balthier, Ashe was still thought of as dead.

"But I must protect Dalmasca--" Basch began, but was cut off when an enraged Vaan leapt onto the cage that the mist had given him. Basch winced, knowing all too well the speech that Vaan was about to scream out. The words had wounded him the first time, but this time they didn't effect him at all.

"Dalmasca? What do you care about Dalmasca! Everything that's happened is because of you! Everyone that's died, every single one! Even my brother. You killed my brother!"

Basch let Vaan have his rant. _It doesn't matter, _he thought numbly. _None of this matters. It is only the mist. They aren't real. I am alone. This is only my mind playing tricks on me._

"Vaan, yelling does not solve anything," Basch told him sternly.

Vaan paused, staring in disbelief at him. His memory changed as Basch distorted his dialog. "How did you know my name?"

Having enough of his vision, Basch closed his eyes tightly, only to hear Vaan question him again. He willed himself to make the vision go away. He told himself that this wasn't real.

When he opened his eyes, the trio was gone, as was his cage. He was back in the Feywood again. Sighing with relief, he closed his eyes once more. He wanted to prevent any more illusions, and so he would simply keep his eyes closed.

After a few minutes, his exhaustion overtook him, and he fell asleep.

* * *

The sound of something approaching woke him. Snapping his eyes open, he turned his head to see a figure coming from the distance. A woman stepped through the clouds of mist. In her hands she gripped a sword. 

_Ashe!_

When he recognized her, Basch nearly jumped to his feet. But his weakness was worsening, and all he could do was just sit against the tree. As he watched her stumble by him, not knowing that he was there, he knew she was simply a figment of his imagination, expelled from his thoughts by the dense mist.

His dead brother threatening him had been terrifying. Vaan screaming at him had been heartbreaking. _What woes would Ashe release upon me, _he wondered. Still, it was her. It was _his _Ashe. Even if she was a false image, even if she would just yell at him, seeing her would give him comfort in his slow death.

"Hello," he called out dazedly.

She whirled around to face him, her mouth falling open with shock. When she recognized that it was him sitting there, she let out a little gasp and dropped her sword. She dashed forward, dropping to her knees before him, just as Gabranth had done.

A bubble of laughter escaped his parched throat. "The same entrance as Gabranth. You would think the mist capable of creating something new. How terribly dull."

A look of pure confusion passed over Ashe's pretty face, and Basch managed a dry laugh again. "Come, Ashe. Vaan relayed his message of hate, and Gabranth his message of inquiry. What more torture could _you _put upon me? Here to tell me how much you hate me?"

Her mouth moved open and closed, but no sound came out. Basch let out an annoyed grunt, sitting up and pushing himself nearer to her. "How dull. At least the other illusions came with voices. Perhaps you are the _pleasant _illusion, here to satisfy me instead."

Tired and feeling near insane, Basch decided that if he was going to die in the Feywood, he would at least try to have some fun. He let his head fall forward, lips pursed, and kissed his false image of Ashe.

Except she did not vaporize as did Gabranth and Larsa. Her lips were warm entities against his mouth. Astounded, he pulled his face away from hers. Her expression was filled with bewilderment.

"What _are _you doing?" She asked, her blue eyes wide.

_What form of mist manifestation is this! _Basch's mind whirled, and he feared that he had gone completely insane. _Have I completely snapped and associated feel with visionary illusion?_ He recalled how he had felt Gabranth's breath warm on his face, and Larsa's hand on his arm.

His face gravely serious, he looked Ashe up and down. _She is an illusion. It doesn't matter. Being alone is prison, but this illusion can make me feel better._

Excited to the thought that he could touch his visions, he reached out and grabbed Ashe around her waist. She released a startled cry and as he yanked hard on her and tumbled forward into his tired arms. Grabbing her hair and yanking her head back, he forced his mouth hard against hers. Her hands flew up to his chest in a weak attempt to push him back, but he kept his latch on her strong. He bit her lower lip, dug his nails passionately into the soft skin on the back of her neck, and kissed her harder than he had ever kissed anyone. _If this is my last kiss- even should it be from a false image- I may as well make it a good one._

But it wasn't fake, and Ashe quickly made him aware of that. She shoved him hard with all her might, and he was weak enough that it sent him falling backwards. From on the ground, he looked up at her, feeling startled.

_Illusions can't hurt you! But she did!_

"What in the hell are you doing," Ashe cried out, raising her hands to her obviously aching lips.

"You are not real," Basch explained. "Just an illusion created by the mist."

"I am most certainly _not _an illusion," she retorted angrily. "I came here to _save _you, Basch. What is going on?"

He narrowed his eyes, peering at her carefully. No spores of mist were omitted from her body. She didn't shimmer as the others had done. She wasn't overly bright. She hadn't vaporized. Basch's eyes widened with disbelief when he realized that she truly was there.

_Oh, Gods. I kissed her! She is real and I kissed her in such a barbaric way! _

Humiliated, he dropped his head down and avoided her gaze. He focused instead on his chain-bound wrists.

"Basch?" she questioned uncertainly.

Taking a deep breath in order to steady himself, he looked back up to her. "Gallus will be back for me in the morning. Lady Ashe, you must free me. I am too weak and cannot do it myself."

"Of course," she whispered, her face etched with concern. She kneeled beside him and set work on freeing him from his chains.

All the while, he avoided her eyes.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I thought this was a fun chapter. Meh. Poor, silly Basch. How embarrassed he must be. XD 


End file.
